


Tails of the Bounty Hunter

by TykTrope



Series: Tails Series [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Aliens, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Anthropomorphic, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Blood and Gore, Crime Drama, Death, Gay Male Character, Gay Sex, M/M, Male Homosexuality, Non-Human Humanoid Society, Organized Crime, Science Fiction, Shooting, Torture, Violence, lion
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-01
Updated: 2019-05-02
Packaged: 2020-02-10 22:13:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 20
Words: 163,997
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18669394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TykTrope/pseuds/TykTrope
Summary: A lion bounty hunter faces one of his greatest challenges yet when he's tasked with taking down a galactic cartel organization, all while he has to deal with his personal dilemmas and deteriorating health.





	1. The Cartel

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, Round 2 on the sci-fi angle! :D Once again this is being reposted after releasing the whole story on my Fictionpress account. Rather proud of this one to be honest.
> 
> For those who don't know, this is the second entry in the Tails Series, a series of sci-fi anthologies where aliens, aliens, and anthropomorphic animals known as anthros coexist with each other. Every story within said series can be read on their own, completely out of order, but it all takes place in the same universe, and some characters from other stories may pop up here and there.
> 
> Unlike Tails of Fame, this is not as dark or dreary or disturbing. There are still some scenes of torture, various scenes of violence and death, multiple shootouts, etc. There's also brief sex/rape scenes too. So trigger warning, trigger warning, trigger warning, etc., etc., etc.
> 
> Anyways, hope you all enjoy the story!

She kept jogging along the sidewalk, panting softly as she kept up the pace with her friend. The gray-furred rabbit grunted as she quickly side-stepped a couple standing near the crosswalk, moving her way past everyone who was leisurely strolling across the pavement. The rabbit turned around and could see that her friend clad in the yellow tank-top and loose-fitting gray sweatpants was still keeping up with her. The rabbit looked up ahead and saw the giant logo for a café that both rabbits would always stop at during their exercises. As they got closer to the building, the rabbit looked down at the hi-tech watch on her right wrist and saw the time change, stating that it was three o’clock. The moment the rabbit arrived in front of the café, she stopped running and huffed, closing her eyes and wiping some sweat off her face. Her friend stopped right next to her and exhaled.

“Hey, Milz,” she said, still out of breath, “how fast was that?”

“Twenty minutes and fourteen seconds,” Milz responded.

The other rabbit with light brown fur chuckled before bending over and pressing her paws on her knees. “Good…that’s-that’s good. We’re getting better!”

Milz looked at her friend and grinned. “ _You’re_ getting better. This was just a warm-up for me.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, ya damn showoff.”

Milz looked down at her watch again and blinked. Her small nose twitched as she looked out into the street and saw dozens of cars speeding by, pumping out exhaust into the air. Then she looked up into the sky and spotted two small hovering spacecrafts that had the letters “IGPA” painted on the sides in bright, white colors. Milz’s companion looked up into the sky as well and rolled her eyes.

“Ugh…these damn rallies and shit—got all the cops blotting out the sky. What the hell do politicians need to argue about in LynKaster City?”

Milz shrugged. “Dunno. Maybe they finally wanna change the city’s name, Shannon.”

“Or maybe they wanna get rid of that old factory at the edge of town. Can’t go a week without all that smog clogging up my lungs.”

“Eh.” Milz shrugged. “Buy a gasmask.”

Shannon chuckled. “Yeah, that’s funny! Cause I wanna walk around looking like some soldier involved in chemical warfare.”

Milz smirked. “S’long as it works.”

Milz looked down at her watch again and blinked. “Hey, I gotta go pick up something from my apartment. You go on ahead and start ordering; I’ll be back in about…fifteen minutes.”

“Fifteen—how are you gonna—”

Milz turned on the corner of the street and disappeared behind a large skyscraper. Shannon stammered, still baffled at how speedy her friend was.

“Tch! BYE!” Shannon shouted, indignant.

___________________________

She knew she didn’t have much time left. And yet, she wasn’t worried. Milz had everything planned out precisely. The rabbit huffed as she found a dark alley between two abandoned apartment complexes and ran down inside. Once she reached a brick wall, she looked up and found a ladder dangling from the right building. So Milz sprinted over to the left wall, hopped up against the brick exterior, and kicked herself off. She grunted as she twisted her body around and grabbed the ladder’s rungs with ease. Afterwards, she scurried up the ladder until she reached the top, and soon found herself on a set of fire escape stairs. Wasting no time, Milz panted as she sprinted up the stairs and reached the rooftop. She threw herself onto the barren stretch of concrete and brick that had been sullied with dirt and vomit, seconds before she broke out into a sprint. The rabbit could see where she needed to get to, which was five buildings away. As Milz ran, she scooped up a flat wooden plank left on the rooftop and immediately tossed it down between the apartment complex she was on and the building right beside of it, forming a makeshift bridge. Milz ran over the wooden board and arrived on the other building, where she came across a few messily dressed anthros in soiled clothing sleeping on filthy mattresses.

She ignored them, even though her boss would’ve told her to leave no potential witnesses, and continued running across the roof. Seeing the third building up ahead, Milz gritted her teeth and broke into a sprint, before jumping off the rooftop and onto the next building. The length of the jump had been calculated days ago; Milz knew she would’ve made it. And she did, grunting and rolling onto the roof of the third building with no trouble. Milz huffed as she stormed her way through two doors that were composed of wire frames and metal before climbing onto a vent and looking at the fourth building. Huffing, Milz waited a moment to get her breath back before she spotted the metal pole hanging from the side of the gray structure. After recovering, Milz sprinted across the vent, which was hanging from the edge of the third building, and jumped off. The rabbit shouted as she latched onto the pole of the fourth building, nearly scraping her paws after sliding down it so roughly. But Milz ignored the pain and climbed up, reaching the edge of the fourth building before looking at the building that had been built to the northwest of the one she stood on.

Luckily, Milz was standing on a building that had a billboard on it that was still under construction. She ran towards it, spotting the buckets of paint, the giant chunks of stone and concrete, metal poles, and other construction equipment that the crew left just sitting around. Milz knew that the crew only worked at night, so she wasn’t worried about being spotted. Nor was she worried about taking the ladder that led straight up to the metal platform in front of the billboard. Milz crouched down after hopping on the platform and took a long breath, moments before she broke out into a sprint again and hurled herself off the billboard. The fifth building had a very long flagpole in the corner of the structure, one that Milz was able to grab on with no trouble. She immediately slid down the metal pole and dropped onto the roof before spotting the final building straight ahead. One of the windows of the final building had a broken glass pane, leaving a hole big enough for Milz’s body. She sprinted to the edge of the rooftop, leaped, and grunted as she made it through the open window and into a decrepit bedroom.

Sweating and out of breath, Milz crouched down and reached underneath the bed, pulling out a suitcase and a duffel bag. Milz opened up the bag and saw a new change of clothes, all of which were black and gray. The rabbit swiftly removed her tank-top and sweat pants and put on the new clothes before bending down and picking up the case. After acquiring the case, she ran out of the apartment and started to head up the building’s staircase. When she reached the top floor, Milz shouted as she shoved the door open and found herself on a flat, empty rooftop that provided her with a perfect view of one of the city streets. Milz looked at her watch again before blinking and looking up into the skies. No spacecrafts or helicopters were around, and no one bothered to put any snipers or other police enforcement agents on this roof. Smirking, Milz walked towards the corner of the rooftop before crouching down and opening the case. In less than thirty seconds, Milz removed the components of a Dragunov sniper rifle and assembled it. Afterwards, the rabbit lied flat on her stomach, looked through the periscope of the rifle, and steadied her paws as she gripped the rifle.

Milz spotted an armored limousine moving through the city streets, with at least five cars wedged behind or in front of it. She couldn’t see through the windows, but there was no need to. All she had to do was wait another thirty seconds, and her target would be visible. The car convoy eventually stopped in front of a tall skyscraper hundreds of yards away from her position, and several anthros clad in black or gray suits exited from their vehicles. Milz took a deep breath as one of the guards opened up the limousine’s back door, allowing a tall, burly bull to exit the vehicle. Milz stared at the horned beast in a charcoal-colored suit as he stepped onto the street and straightened out his tie. He didn’t have time to take another step before Milz shot him in the temple. The rabbit stayed still long enough to see the bull fall down as two of his guards were sprayed with blood, and what seemed to be brain fragments. Not bothering to stay and wait, the rabbit quickly disassembled her rifle and dumped the parts back into the case. She took off her watch and tossed it in there as well, before bending down and picking up the bullet casing too. As Milz began to walk towards the staircase, she removed a small earpiece from her new clothing’s pocket and stuffed it into her right ear.

“Is it done?” someone asked over the other end.

“It’s done,” Milz responded.

“Good.”

Milz removed the earpiece and tossed it into the suitcase along with the bullet casing. Then she took out a small, light green grenade, removed the pin, and put it inside the suitcase before calmly closing it. As Milz headed back to the stairwell, she heard a hissing noise, and knew that the grenade just detonated and was deploying an acidic substance that would get rid of the evidence. Milz rushed back down into the bedroom, took her old clothes out of the duffel bag, and switched outfits again. As she finished putting on her sweatpants and tank-top, she crouched down, pulled the pin from another grenade attached to the black outfit, and dropped it into the duffel bag. She zipped the bag closed and backed away, watching as the bag began to hiss and dissolve after the grenade went off. Exhaling, Milz wiped her face off before she climbed out the window, sliding down a nearby pole and landing on the ground with a soft thud. The rabbit looked around the environment; there was no way anyone could’ve followed her, not with the chaotic route that she took. And she didn’t bother using the front or back door, so there was no need to worry about any cameras catching her.

Her paws in her pockets, Milz walked back onto the street so she could head back to the café.

_________________________________

Milz grunted as she sat down on the opposite end of the same table Shannon sat at. Shannon exhaled as she removed a packed pastry from her pocket and slid it across the table.

“Oh hey, gotcha one of those cinnamon flat bread thingies.”

Milz chuckled. “English muffins.”

“Whatever. I don’t understand why humans couldn’t just name everything the same. That’s like naming a blue pencil a blucil. It’s the same damn thing!”

“No,” said Milz, opening up the package and taking out a muffin. “There’s a distinction.”

“Tch! Distinction my furry ass.”

As Milz began to eat her muffin, she took out her cell phone and started scanning the device for local news stories. From what she could see, someone just issued a breaking story about a politician who appeared to have been assassinated.

“That your job again?”

Milz exited out the browser’s page and slid her phone back in her pocket.

“Eh. Nothing important.”

________________________________

The obese reptilian creature clad in a white lab coat and dark gray pants snorted as he sat in his chair. He rubbed his dripping snout with a hand that only had three fingers on it before blinking and licking his teeth. He slowly gazed at all the numbers appearing on the computer monitor in front of him before he grinned widely and rubbed his hands together.

“Good…good,” he hissed.

As the reptilian beast examined all the numbers, he heard the automatic metal door behind him whoosh as it slid open. The reptilian beast snarled as he turned around and spotted a tall, dark blue alligator wearing a vest and black pants standing in the doorway.

“Vogar?”

“Dr. Oblingor. Dr. Oblingor, Leon. Must I _constantly_ remind you of proper etiquette when it comes to someone’s profession?”

The alligator stared at the reptilian creature as he got out of his chair. He was just barely over five feet tall, and he had a colossal plump yellow stomach that was showing. Vogar tried to tuck in his plaid yellow shirt, but his girth wouldn’t allow it, so he wore his shirt and coat with his belly hanging out. The alligator glared at the short, corpulent, dark green creature as he slowly approached him.

“I wasn’t aware that cronoks cared about being proper.” The alligator flared his nostrils and backed away from the doctor. “It’s clear none of you seem to be fond of hygiene.”

Vogar chuckled and rubbed his snout. “Hygiene is a waste of time, Leon. Bathing yourself just so you’ll only smell fresh for a few hours?”

Vogar waved his scaly, three-fingered hand and snorted. “So why are you disturbing me at this time?”

The guard sniffed. “They need you for the testing procedure again.”

Vogar’s grin widened. “Wonderful!”

The cronok grunted as he readjusted his shirt and coat, moments before he exited his personal office and found himself standing in the middle of a metal corridor with several wide rooms on each side of the hallway. As Vogar passed by each room, he looked at the button next to each window that had a creamy, translucent covering around all of them. Vogar stepped near one of the rooms, grinning slightly as he reached up and grazed one of the buttons. Leon, however, exhaled and rolled his eyes.

“They’re waiting for you, Doctor.”

“They can wait another minute.”

The cronok pressed the button and heard a faint click. He stood beside the window and blinked, waiting until the translucent particles within the window gradually dissolved, revealing the contents inside the room. Vogar chuckled as he saw what appeared to be some kind of enclosure, something one would typically find in a zoo. Within the enclosure, there were several reptiles, all of whom were naked and covered in scratches and bite marks. None of them looked any different from Leon, but the way they behaved was far too primal. Two caimans were busy fighting each other, snarling and biting each other’s faces, trying to see who would be able to eat the last chunk of flesh that someone tossed into the enclosure. Three other alligators were busy fornicating with each other, drooling and panting as they desired to drain their testicles of semen. One crocodile was nonchalantly urinating onto the ground with a blank gaze on her face, shortly before she walked over to the small pond within the enclosure and started to take a drink. Vogar pressed his snout up against the window and let his nostrils widen.

“So primitive,” he growled.

After staring at the reptiles inside, Vogar turned and looked at Leon, sizing him up before scoffing at him and shaking his head.

“You all should be lucky. Your kind was nothing but _pets_ to those humans.”

“And what are these things you keep in these rooms?”

Vogar smiled. “I see them more as my toys,” he said, with a wink.

Vogar reached up and hit the button again, and the window became translucent once more. Sighing, the cronok continued his journey down the corridor, walking through another automatic sliding door and finding himself within the main laboratory. The lab wasn’t as noisy now as it typically would be. Most of the scientists and workers had left already, and a majority of his experiments were sleeping soundly in their cages and pens. Leon and Vogar were both walking on a metal catwalk high above the main floor of the lab, feeling the cold steel beneath their feet. Vogar looked down over the railing, staring at the various black barrels full of chemicals and acids. The cronok curled his fingers together, thinking about all the vile nerve agents or viruses he could concoct once he had the right pathogens and chemicals delivered to him and mixed properly. Vogar reached up and scratched around the blue bony plate that was on his head, one of many that started on his scalp and went down his spine and all the way to the tip of his thick tail. Vogar yawned noisily before letting his arms down and scratching his belly-button.

“Any other riveting news, Leon?”

“Baron wants you to contact him after the tests.”

Vogar exhaled. “Course he does. I’ll call him as soon as we’re done here then.”

The duo reached the end of the catwalks, and another automatic door whooshed open, leading into an observation room. Vogar exhaled as he held up his hands, while the dozen or so other scientists in the room all glared at him.

“I know, I know, I’m ‘late’ again. But I was busy, as I always am.” The cronok looked down at his girth and shook his belly a bit. “And clearly I’m not as nimble as you all are.”

“Yes, we’re aware, Doctor. Just hurry up and get the procedure started,” said a wily monitor lizard.

Vogar sniffed. “Temper, temper! There’s no need to rush perfection!”

Another cronok who looked like Vogar, but was much thinner and with red bony plates on his back, sniffled and rubbed his snout. “Err, actually, Doctor? Didn’t the Baron say that we should tr—”

“I was not addressing _you_ , Mollsk. So please still your tongue,” Vogar snapped.

The other cronok shut his mouth and shyly moved away. As the guards in the room remained near the doors and locked up the observation room, Vogar walked over to a switch on the wall and flicked it, activating a series of metal shutters near the windows. All of them gradually rolled upwards, revealing a chamber that was merely composed of a few lights and various vents for gases to pump inside. After the shutters went up, Vogar walked near one of the computers in the observation room and quickly ran a few fingers against the keys. One of the other scientists turned and looked back at Vogar, blinking.

“Um, Dr. Oblingor? You sure we need _this_ many test subjects?”

“The last test results predicted one in five hundred. More is better, in this case.”

Vogar clicked on a confirmation button once the prompt appeared on the monitor, and the entire room beeped as a warning light went off. Vogar smirked as he walked over to the windows and looked down into the testing chamber that was as big as a gymnasium and currently had a dozen different types of anthros locked up inside with chains. As the lights came on, dark blue mist began to pour out of some of the vents, gradually filling up the chamber and flowing into the prisoners’ lungs. Nothing happened at first, and the prisoners were all confused, thinking that they were simply inhaling some kind of drug. But then the screaming and snarling started, and Vogar saw some of the prisoners coughing noisily. Four of them collapsed to the floor and started vomiting profusely, while another ten began to cough up blood. One of the scientists gagged and looked away.

“Urgh, can’t we find a way to make this process less graphic?”

“Chemistry isn’t about beauty or looking nice and neat. You all know this,” Vogar said.

Some of the more squeamish scientists decided to look away from the vile chaos going on within the chamber, finding the sight of all the anthros vomiting inside to be more than revolting. Some of them even began to loosen their bowels, and Vogar could see that some of the test subjects were developing dysentery. Vogar looked up at a timer he had installed within the chamber and could see everyone had only been exposed for thirty seconds. When a full minute passed, Vogar rubbed his hands together and could see that some of the anthros were growing to nearly twice their height, with some of them twelve feet tall or higher. Their muscles expanded and grew as their anatomy changed to the sudden transformation. Vogar grinned widely, happy to see that the test was working.

“There we go…see? I’ve finally—”

Someone’s head exploded, the cranium bursting like a balloon filled with flesh, bone, and brain fragments. Vogar’s grin turned into a frown.

“Fuck.”

Two more heads exploded. Followed by four, and then eight. Vogar exhaled with frustration as he examined the test subjects, watching as many of them either convulsed and bled from every orifice until their expired or their heads exploded, spraying repulsive mulch all over the floor and walls. After several minutes, the gas finally dissipated, and everything in the chamber was quiet. However, much to Vogar’s surprise, a dozen of the test subjects were still standing, the anthros still strewn with new muscles and fat. Their teeth were enormous and exposed out the corners of their closed snouts or muzzles, their eyes were dark red or yellow, and their claws and toe claws were as sharp as knives. Vogar’s smile returned and he clasped his hands together.

“Twelve…we have twelve this time!”

“Out of _five hundred_ ,” one scientist pointed out.

“Your pessimism is quite irritating, Dr. Schull. What we have here is progress! Last time it was a single soul who survived—and he died minutes later! But now…”

Vogar pressed his hands and snout against the window, fogging it up. “Ohhhh, they’re gorgeous. And they’re not fighting each other…look at them. What exquisite beasts!”

“You gonna start ejaculating all in your trousers now, Doc?”

Vogar turned and glared at Leon. He said nothing and merely grinned at him, while all the other scientists moved away from the window after observing the test procedure. The cronok exhaled as he looked up at a lanky komodo dragon and rubbed his muzzle.

“Contact Jurllo. Tell him those soldiers he’s been requesting are finally ready!”

The komodo dragon blinked. “Shouldn’t we train them first?”

“Absolutely not. We created the product. Jurllo’s gonna have to decide whether he wants to use it to fuel his fruitless genocide, or if he wants to merely sodomize those beasts. Go on ahead and call the guards to escort our new products to their holding cells. And get the janitors, obviously.”

After Vogar finished speaking with his other assistants, he walked away from the observation room so he could return to the catwalks. The cronok wordlessly made his way back to his personal office and locked his automatic door. Then he walked over to the wall just in front of his computer desk and stepped up to a monitor installed against the structure. Vogar fidgeted with a few buttons on the monitor before punching in a set of numbers, as if he was dialing someone’s phone number. A few seconds later, the monitor turned on, revealing a series of static images. Vogar waited patiently, staring at the static for thirty more seconds before the static abruptly switched to an image of a white fox standing inside of what seemed to be a luxurious office and wearing a white suit. The fox wiggled his nose, his icy blue eyes staring straight ahead into the screen.

“What is it, Dr. Oblingor?” the fox asked in a smooth voice.

Vogar grinned. “What’s this, dear Baron? No affable greeting this time? Aren’t you enthusiastic to see my pretty face again?”

The fox glared at Vogar through the monitor. Even with his mouth closed, several of his teeth were hanging out the corners of his maw, and there was saliva running down some of his teeth.

“Can’t say I’m enthusiastic. Or that your face is pretty.”

“I’m sure you won’t mind it once you see that it’s surrounded by millions of dollars.”

The fox rubbed his muzzle. “I’m assuming you’ve perfected the pathogen.”

“Alas, no. But my scientists and I have been making progress! Our recent test yielded twelve fully healthy subjects, ready to be shipped out as soon as Jurllo makes his call!”

“Have you trained them?”

Vogar chuckled. “As I told Dr. Komzz, there’s no need to. That warlord wanted advanced soldiers. We’ve made them. Jurllo needs to decide what he intends on doing with them. All you need to know is that we’ll be richer soon enough!”

“Good.”

Vogar sniffed. “I also plan on distributing this pathogen out to other sectors of the galaxy…I’ve found it’s quite volatile when it comes to humans.”

“That won’t be necessary.”

“But it’ll be fun! And this pathogen will hopefully render all of humanity extinct, with no chance of them migrating to another galaxy this time around!”

“As I said, that will not be necessary. Discontinue further testing on humans for now; it’s a waste of time and resources. I need you to focus more on our current goals as opposed to trying to wipe out a race of animals that will inevitably render _itself_ extinct.”

Vogar nodded. “As you wish, Baron.”

The cronok reached up and turned off the monitor, moments before he walked over to his chair and sat down, exhaling and scooting it towards his computer again. He quickly brought up the security cameras in the facility and immediately switched over to one of the cages in the lower levels. Inside of it was another anthro who was naked and had lost his sanity. Somewhere over in the corner of the cage, a naked human being was squatting in the corner and whimpering. Vogar licked his teeth, noticing five other human cadavers in the cage that had been picked clean by the anthro. Vogar’s nostrils flared as he reached down and rubbed his crotch with his left hand, drooling again. The anthro in the cage noticed the human being and approached him. Even though the cameras provided no audio, Vogar knew exactly what was happening. As the anthro tackled the human to the floor and began to rip him apart, Vogar opened his mouth and started to breathe heavily while curling his left hand into a fist.

“Exquisite,” he whispered, drool running down his maw.

__________________________________

He always enjoyed this. No one to bother him. No one interrupting him. No one spying on him. Just his roomy office, a nice musky smell in the air, and the sound of the heater gently humming in the background. The tall, burly, blue-nosed pit bull with cropped ears could feel sweat running down his face as he let the sense of euphoria flow through his loins. Taking a deep breath, the massive dog reached down as he ran a thick paw down the cat’s back, grinning as the feline whimpered.

“Shhhh,” he whispered.

The cat didn’t say anything. He kept whimpering as tears streamed down his face, his body already bruised and scratched thanks to the pit bull. The dog reached around the feline’s waist and groped his groin, where he felt an erection.

“Y’see? You’re enjoying this. Now stay quiet for a few—”

“Stop,” the cat sobbed.

The pit-bull shook his head. “I’ll stop when I’m fuckin’ finished. Now be quiet,” the pit-bull snarled.

The cat didn’t say anything else; he knew what would happen if he did. So the pit-bull resumed thrusting, panting heavily in the cat’s ear as he pressed the feline against the wall. He kept going for another few minutes, shoving his shaft into the cat’s behind, until he finally ejaculated. Once the dog finished, he growled sensually in the cat’s ear before opening his mouth and licking the cat against his neck. As he held the cat by his hips, the pit bull growled and wagged his tail.

“You wanna go again?”

The cat didn’t answer, which agitated the pit bull. So he snorted against the cat’s nape, and slowly wrapped his bulky right arm around the cat’s throat.

“I said, do you fuckin’ wanna go again?” he snarled.

Before the cat could answer, the wall monitor in the dog’s office started to beep. The dog snarled as he turned and faced the monitor, knowing there was only one person who would be calling via the same monitor. Frustrated, the dog pulled out of the cat with a faint squelch before shoving him to the floor.

“Don’t you fuckin’ move!” the dog shouted.

But the dog already knew the cat wouldn’t. His footpaws and paws were bound together by handcuffs, and the feline already knew what would happen if he disobeyed the dog. Panting, the dog stomped over to the monitor and punched one of the buttons so hard he nearly broke it. The monitor turned on, revealing an arctic fox in a white suit.

“WHAT?!”

The fox didn’t say anything. He just stared at the burly pit bull and raised an eyebrow as he gazed at his naked body and the excess semen dripping from his penis.

“MUTHAFUCKA WHADDYA WANT?!” the dog bellowed.

“Oh my. Seems like I interrupted you.”

“YA GODDAMN FUCKIN’ RIGHT YA INTERRUPTED ME!”

The fox blinked. “Calm down. Your voice might crack the monitor.”

“Just tell me what the fuck ya want so I can get back—”

“To…what? Being a degenerate? Preying on anthros younger or weaker than you?”

The pit bull folded his muscular arms. “Hmph! You don’t judge me, muthafucka. All the fuckin’ shit _you’ve_ done? You ain’t got no fuckin’ right!”

“You keep telling yourself that.” The fox paused so he could adjust his light blue tie. “Anyways. I’m calling to let you know that the other heads are meeting at my tower in a few days. Got something big planned if this meeting I’m scheduled for goes well.”

“There gonna be a big payday in it for us?”

“As always. Split five ways, like usual. You’re all free to use the money as you see fit.”

The pit bull grinned. “Soooooooo if I wanna blow all my shit on cocaine, some dirty-ass boar tail, maybe some explosives—”

“It’s your money, Gobor. Use it however you please. That’s what you do already, isn’t it?”

“Ya goddamn right it is.” Gobor exhaled. “Fine then. I’ll join your fuckin’ meeting. Now leave me the fuck alone, ‘less you wanna hear all the nasty details of what I’m doing.”

“I’m sure it involves you torturing those felines with that atrocious breath of yours. Or perhaps you’re forcing them all to lick your anus as you pass gas in their face.”

“Fuck you.”

Gobor punched the monitor again and ended the call. Shortly afterwards, the pit bull walked over to his desk and pushed down on a button that was placed in front of a speaker.

“Rex?”

“Yeah boss?”

“You still got those bombs planted near those houses?”

“Yeah boss. You wanna set ‘em off?”

“Not yet, hold on.”

Gobor jogged over to the cat on the floor and quickly picked him back up. Giggling, he shoved him over to the monitor on the wall, inputted a few buttons, and turned it on. The cat could see that someone had installed footage of a suburban neighborhood that was many miles outside of the city, which showed a few pedestrians sitting outside talking to each other, playing basketball, or smoking cigarettes or marijuana. Gobor patted the cat on the back, while the feline shuddered and felt his eyes watering again.

“N-no…no, please! I did what you asked! I-I did what you wanted!”

“Yeeeeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaaaah.” Gobor sucked on his teeth and shrugged. “Don’t care!”

Chuckling, Gobor walked over to his speaker and pushed down on a button. “Light ‘em fuckers up, Rex!”

“Gotcha.”

Gobor released the button and walked back over to the screen, while the cat wailed after hearing what the dog said. But there was nothing he could do. What appeared as a regular suburban neighborhood soon erupted into a series of explosions. At least six bombs went off back to back, destroying entire blocks and obliterating several homes. Some of the civilians in the streets were blown apart on camera, and the cat had the displeasure of witnessing a few teenagers getting charred by the fire. After the explosions stopped, Gobor broke out into a fit of hysterical laughter, clapping his paws together as he looked at the cat’s face.

“HAHAHAHAHAHAAAAAA!!!! Oh-oh my fuckin’ god! YOUR FACE! YOU SHOULD SEE YOURSELF RIGHT NOW!”

The cat’s tail went limp as he looked at the floor, all life in his body draining away.

“I…I…you said—”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, who gives a fuck what I said? Does it look like I give a shit what _you_ want?”

“But…you said…you said my-my family—”

“Check your ears, bitch! I said that I wouldn’t kill your family if you came to my tower and submitted to me. And I didn’t!” Gobor chuckled. “My loyal servant Rex did! So, y’see, I kept my word!”

Gobor walked over and turned off the monitor. Then he walked behind the cat again, leaning forward and blowing his hot, rank breath against his nape.

“Seeing as how your home is gone and your whole fuckin’ family’s dead, maybe uh…”

Gobor looked down and rubbed the cat’s buttocks.

“Maybe you should find a new home…hmm?”

Maybe the cat was physically exhausted. Maybe he just gave up on life altogether. But he slowly found himself getting on his paws and knees, waiting patiently for Gobor to get behind him. The muscular pit bull grinned widely as he crouched down, his semi-erect penis aimed for the feline’s tailhole.

“Thought so.”

____________________________________

Always running. Always moving. Always counting. Always managing time. The muscular dark brown goat wearing only loose-fitting blue shorts and a necklace slowly paced back and forth, holding a clipboard in his hands and gazing at the tables in front of him. He was standing in the middle of a huge warehouse, with various vehicles driving in and out of the facility transporting all sorts of product to different locations around the planet. The goat sniffed as he looked at the seven anthros standing in front of him and beheld the sheer amount of supplies on all the different tables. Exhaling, the goat slowly walked near a table with medical supplies and equipment on it and sniffed.

“Kully. Medical supplies. Five hundred pounds. Gonzu Peninsula. Spacecraft.”

The koala standing on the other side of the table blinked. “Ship may be faster, sir.”

“Spacecraft. You’ll be able to avoid the coast guard that way.”

“Yes, sir!”

The koala bear quickly started to package the supplies into five different boxes just as the goat wandered over to the second table and tapped on his clipboard with a pen.

“Jonson. Plasma batteries, bullets, and explosives. ‘Bout four hundred pounds. Greervin’s Island. Boat.”

“Which boat, sir?” the donkey asked.

“Speed. S’got camouflage capabilities, although you shouldn’t need it.”

“Understood, sir.”

Jonson started sealing up a crate full of plasma weaponry when the goat stepped to the next table, tapping the pen against his jaw.

“Let’s see…Torvo. Seventeen kilos of heroin. Five bags of prescription pills. Six kilos of cocaine. Should be seven. Put the brick back on the table. Asshole.”

The gorilla standing on the other side of the table groaned and rolled his eyes as he dug into the back of his pants and tossed the seventh brick of cocaine back onto the table.

“Damn it! Was sure I would’ve got ya this time!”

The goat looked up at the gorilla and smirked. “Gyver’s City. Truck. The authorities there are working with the Baron; you should have no trouble, assuming there’s no rogue police officers.”

“Good.”

The goat shifted over to the fourth table and widened his nostrils. “Harris. Shower. Soap. Water. Today.”

The shirtless brown rabbit standing on the other side of the table exhaled. “What the hell for?! All I do is run around and ride on those confounded bicycles; s’not like this job is hygienic! And you don’t smell like a bushel of strawberries either, sir!”

“No, but I don’t smell like my ass crack. You do.”

Torvo heard the goat’s comments and laughed to himself. Harris immediately glared at the primate, and Torvo quickly shut his mouth.

“Anyway,” the goat resumed. “Harris. Four crates of semi-automatic handguns. One crate of shotguns. Two crates of submachine guns. One case with a rocket launcher. One case with a grenade launcher. Gyver’s City. Truck.”

“I—wait, wait, wait, no, no! That means I gotta ride with Torvo!”

“Kolson, I’m not riding with this stank-ass rabbit, okay?” the gorilla protested.

The goat looked up at both anthros and smiled. “Torvo, you’re going with him because you keep screwing with my orders as a means of entertainment. Now normally, I don’t mind it, but last week, one of our employees _did_ steal from our shipments. And our customer was not very pleased with that. So you’re riding with Harris. For eight _long_ hours.”

“Are you shitting me?! You’ve any idea how many times Torvo farts in an hour?! This ape isn’t even _trying_ to hold ‘em in! I’m gonna suffocate!” Harris complained.

Torvo snorted as he looked at the rabbit. “Hey. I’m a vegetarian. Don’t get all pissy that my diet mostly consists of cabbage, beans and broccoli.”

Kolson grinned widely. “Y’see? Both of you will cry during the journey. You’ll be _equally_ abused. Deal with it.”

“But I didn’t even do anything!” Harris whined.

“Exactly. You _didn’t_ shower. That’s on you. Now you two kiss and move the product. On a tight schedule today.”

Kolson knew the two anthros would continue arguing, but he didn’t care. They’d obey their orders, like everyone else did. So he shifted over to the fifth table that had several stacks of money on it and rubbed his nose.

“Kayla. Seven million dollars. Two duffel bags. Erdyn Airfield. Plane.”

The cheetah standing on the other side of the table wagged her tail. “No interference from the IGPA?”

“Not that I’m aware of. Should be a clean flight over there.”

“Understood, sir.”

As Kayla started putting the money into her duffel bag, the goat shifted over to the sixth table that had various bottled chemicals on it.

“Polly. Assortment of volatile nerve agents. Four canisters. Demyl Swamp. Spacecraft.”

The brown bear standing opposite of Kolson rubbed her forehead. “Damn… _that_ swamp.”

“Make sure one canister goes to Dr. Oblingor as well.”

“ _And_ I have to go see that cronok?”

“I know that Dr. Oblingor is a pompous narcissist who relishes in watching others suffer. And I know that his creations are unholy abominations and downright sacrilegious. And I know that his breath is deplorable. But these are the orders for the shipment. Don’t talk to him, don’t engage in conversation; just drop the package and leave. This’ll be the last time I send you there.”

Polly exhaled. “All right, sir.”

As the bear grunted and began to haul the shipment outside, the goat stepped over to the final table and exhaled.

“Franz. Final shipment. Retire early. Gonna miss you.”

The giant tortoise standing on the other side of the table chuckled and scratched his bald head. “Aww…c’mon now, don’t be like that. You know how it is…just gotta know when to cut and run.”

“Least you told me. I respect that. Last two couriers I had who ‘retired’ just stole our shit and we had to spend a month hunting them down.”

The goat exhaled. “Anyway. Volatile explosives. Grenades, dynamite, gunpowder, dozens of rockets. Crate full of laser weaponry too. Rillver Harbor. Ship.”

“I’m assuming one of the bigger ones.”

“Clearly.” Kolson lowered his clipboard for a moment as he smiled and extended his fuzzy right hand forward. “Was nice working with you, Franz.”

The tortoise chuckled. “Likewise.”

Both of them shook hands briefly. Once they took their hands away, Franz started gathering up all the supplies he had to deliver. Kolson exhaled as he walked over towards his office door and stepped inside, where his personal bodyguard was waiting for him.

“Everything okay, sir?” the lithe panther asked.

Kolson huffed as he sat down in his chair and set his clipboard on the desk in front of him. He rubbed his eyes for a moment before nodding.

“Just a bit tired, Joey. Haven’t slept in…fuck, what time is it?”

“Four.”

Kolson chuckled. “About thirty hours now.”

The panther nodded. “I understand. Erm, permission to speak freely, before I let you get some rest?”

“Granted.”

“I don’t think you’re making the right call letting Franz go. Shouldn’t we kill him? Place a bomb on his boat?”

“Negative. Franz has been nothing but loyal to me. I trust him.”

“If the IGPA get ahold of him—”

“He has more than enough money to disappear. And you’ve seen his scars, Joey. There’s nothing the IGPA will do to him he ain’t already been through. Do _not_ kill him.”

The panther nodded. “It’s just…one little error—”

“If Franz is killed and I discover that you were responsible, I’m sending you off into Knochen City so Gobor can have a go at you.”

Kolson glared at Joey. “You and I both know how Gobor feels about you felines and what he does to males of your ‘stature.’”

Joey nodded. “Yes…my apologies. Oh, um, since you mentioned Gobor? He sent…something yesterday. Between all these preparations I forgot to mention it to you.”

The goat rolled his eyes. “Was it another fake bomb?”

“No. Um…about twenty felines. All, err…abused. Horribly. Locked up in some trailer truck.”

Kolson’s eyes widened. “What?”

“I didn’t know if you wanted us to kill them or if you wanted to make some money offa them. I got guards taking care of them, feeding them, don’t worry.”

“Were these felines raped?”

“Couldn’t tell.”

“How old are they?!”

“Not sure how old they are, but they’re _young_ enough to still be in school.”

“FUCK!” Kolson shouted, slamming his clipboard against the wall so hard it cracked. The goat leaned back in his chair and groaned noisily as he reached up and grabbed his pointy, slightly curved horns. “Get rid of ‘em.”

“As in…?”

“Take ‘em all to the nearest hospital you can find! I’m not shipping off a buncha kittens so they can sell their asses on the streets, and I’ll be damned if they’re going back to Knochen City!”

Joey sniffed. “The authorities may ask questions, sir.”

“Good! Gobor started this! He dumped a pile of dog shit on my doorstep, so I’m gonna throw it right back at him, and he’s gonna have to clean it up!”

“What if this leads back to you?”

“I said _dog_ shit, not _goat_ shit. If the authorities figure anything out, he’s gonna suffer, not us. And that’s just fuckin’ fine with me.”

Kolson exhaled as he slowly rubbed his face again and snorted. “So take ‘em all to the hospital and report to me once the deed’s done.”

Joey nodded. “Understood, sir.”

The panther left the goat’s office, locking the door on the way outside. After the panther exited the goat’s office, Kolson stood up from his chair and dragged his feet over to the couch he had near one of the walls. Then Kolson lied down on the couch and shut his eyes, sighing. Not even five minutes later, he was unconscious.

____________________________

The arctic fox blinked as he stood at the window, gazing down into the city below. Everything seemed to glow in a radiant sea of neon colors. Dozens of buildings were showing off their vibrant exterior with colossal signs. Hundreds of vehicles were zooming through the streets, everyone hurrying to their destination, not caring about anything outside of their personal bubble. Spacecrafts and hoverships occasionally rumbled as they floated past the tower the fox stood inside of. Sniffing, the fox ran a paw against his furry muzzle before drinking the rest of the wine in his glass. He exhaled as the crimson-colored fluids ran down his esophagus and sniffed again, still observing the city streets below him.

“I grow tired of waiting, fox! You will conduct business with me starting now!”

The fox chuckled after hearing the watery, deep voice with a slight lisp in the speech pattern. As the arctic fox turned around, he stared at the enormous, eight-foot-tall creature clad in red armor with yellow stripes spread around the exterior. The creature looked like a giant humanoid bee or hornet. He had four humanoid arms instead of two, and if the creature stood up, the fox would see humanoid legs. But his entire head was shaped exactly like a bee’s was, and the creature had a bulbous, insectoid abdomen dangling from behind where an animal’s posterior would be. The fox walked over to the giant bee-like alien as he clacked his mandibles together and slurped a few times.

“You will learn to be patient. Your ancestors were quite disciplined in that department,” the fox said in his quiet voice.

“Do not compare me to those inferior pests that buzzed around on planet Earth!”

The fox exhaled as he set his wine glass down on his desk and blinked. He placed his paws on two different clocks on the desk. One of them was ticking faintly, while the other one displayed what time it was on a flat screen.

“No, Maynard, I will—”

“ _Commander_ Maynard!” the alien shouted, slamming his fist on the desk.

The fox exhaled and rolled his eyes. “Commander Maynard, right. You see, your kind used to be inferior. You were used by those humans to make honey for them. You were nothing more than a product, just a disposable tool.”

The arctic fox rubbed his paw against the ticking, old-fashioned clock made out of wood. “No one cared for your species, not for what you really were, what you could do. …But look at you now. What are you? A proud apid commander? A valiant warrior? A conqueror? All of the above?”

The fox could somehow sense that the giant alien was grinning, even though his bee-like head wasn’t capable of showing such emotion.

“All of the above, Baron. Who else—”

“Incorrect,” the fox said, reaching over and rubbing the digital clock. “Sure. Perhaps you’ve become sentient enough to speak. We all have. You apids, according to those humans, are descendants of bees. And we anthros used to be wild animals that would frolic in the woods on all fours, wearing no clothes, fornicating at our own leisure, micturating and defecating wherever we wanted, eating raw flesh—”

“You are wasting my time, Baron! Get to your point!” Maynard snapped.

Baron sat down in his expensive, comfortable maroon chair and exhaled. “We’re all animals. We’ve all evolved. But nothing has changed. We haven’t changed, and we never will.”

“You’re a contradictory creature, fox! You just said we’ve evolved!”

Baron shook his head. “Cogs can’t evolve,” the fox said softly. “Machines don’t evolve. They might shift appearances, maybe fool viewers into _thinking_ they’re different.”

Baron paused so he could stare at the two clocks on his desk. One ticked gently in his ear, while the other one merely changed a number that was displayed on the clock’s digital face.

“We’re all cogs, Commander. We operate and coexist because we have to make the machine we’re a part of function properly. If a cog gets damaged, it’ll be replaced. But it’ll cost lots of time, energy, effort, money. Perhaps multiple cogs will break. And that will cost _more_ time and profits. Maybe the machine will upgrade, and the cogs must be replaced with circuitry and wires, or coding within a program. But they’re all still cogs. And it’s all still a machine.”

Baron paused again, and he started to run the claw on his right index finger against his wooden desk. “Simple really. Shame most of the cogs I collaborate with don’t share the same mentality.”

“This is all quite philosophical and relevant,” the apid said, sounding lethargic, “but none of it answers my question.”

“Ha.” Baron rubbed his muzzle again as he stared at the four-armed apid with a smile on his face. “Of course I accept your proposal. Why would I not?”

The apid slurped noisily. “Good, good! This colony has been rather bothersome for the Apis Empire—”

“You mean for you.”

“SAME THING!”

Baron chuckled. “And you intend on handling your part of the deal?”

“I never go back on my word. It would be dishonorable.”

“But we’re both cogs. Have you forgotten already? And if two cogs can’t connect properly, well… _one_ of them must be disposed of.”

Commander Maynard pounded two of his fists against the desk, tipping over Baron’s empty wine glass. “HOW DARE YOU THREATEN THE APIS EMPIRE!”

Baron blinked. “How dare you assault my pristine desk.”

“YOU THINK THIS IS FUNNY?!”

“Li’l bit.”

“I’LL HAVE YOU KNOW THAT THE APIS EMPIRE WILL COME TO THIS PLANET—”

“And raze this planet to the ground—which you _can’t do_ , I should add. You’ll kidnap our females. Rape our pups and kittens with your stingers. Mutilate the males. Defecate in our neighbors’ swimming pools.” Baron waved a paw and exhaled. “I’ve heard it before.”

Commander Maynard snarled viciously and began to flutter his wings. Baron raised a paw.

“Before you start screaming again, I’ll have you know—don’t you _dare_ spit on my desk.”

Commander Maynard closed his mouth and sucked in his saliva.

“Good. Now…all you need to know is that I’ll get the job done. This colony? Meh. It is refuse, as far as I know. And this refuse must be disposed of immediately so we can continue to function. If a few hundred thousand—”

“Hundred _million_. They must _all_ be purged!”

Baron stared at Maynard. And then he blinked. “Meh. A bear is much, much bigger than termites. And termites would be overwhelmed at how large a pile of ursine feces can be.”

Baron shrugged. “We’re two termites looking at a bear.”

“And it just shat in front of me,” Maynard snarled.

“No worries. The machine will resume functioning properly soon.”

“Good. Don’t disappoint me, Baron.”

The fox didn’t say anything. He sat still and watched as the commander stood up and started walking to the set of double-doors in the fox’s office. After opening them up and slamming them shut, the apid alien disappeared, walking alongside other apid guards. Baron, meanwhile, sat in his comfortable chair and exhaled. He flicked his eyes down at his old-fashioned clock made of wood and composed of tiny gears within. Then he looked at the clock that ran on batteries and was composed of circuitry and wires instead.

And then he smiled.


	2. The Lion

The white mouse panted heavily as he sprinted through the alleys, moving his way through some of the decrepit buildings and hopping over trash cans and barrels. He looked over his shoulder multiple times, wondering if his pursuer was still after him. Frantic and scared, the mouse shouted as he tripped over a few trash bags, landing right on top of a dirty mattress that a homeless beast was sleeping on. The mouse looked at the creature, an oversized bear not wearing any pants, and immediately resumed sprinting once the bear began to wake up, snarling. Knowing that he was making too much noise, the mouse decided to hide instead, hot breath erupting from his mouth as he braced himself against a pillar within the building. The rodent let himself calm down and waited for his heartbeat to slow, and at one point peeked around the corner of the stone pillar. He could see a dark shadow looming in the distance, the silhouette of the mane giving away the pursuer.

“Shit,” the mouse whispered. “Shit, shit, shit!”

The rodent reached into the pocket of his jeans and looked at his cell phone. It was broken. He shoveled it back into his pants before looking at his left arm and pulling back his long sleeve, revealing a communication device clamped around his forearm. He tapped on it multiple times with his right paw, and the device responded with a series of sparks.

“Fuck!” the mouse squeaked.

Just as the mouse lowered his arm, he felt someone grab his trousers. The rodent turned and looked down at a gray wolf in ratty clothing reaching up towards his firearm.

“Niiiiice gun…”

“Fuck off.”

The wolf licked his lips. “Ain’t…ain’t no pistol…you from ‘notha planet?”

“I said fuck off!”

The canine grabbed the mouse’s weapon. “Lemme play…lemme play with—”

Frustrated, the mouse snatched the hi-tech weapon from his trousers and pointed it at the wolf’s head. It looked like a regular handgun from afar, but up close, it had several modifications on it only weapons found on different planets used. The mouse held the trigger, watching as the gun’s barrel started to glow bright green and began to emit a noisy whirr. The wolf had enough time to open his mouth before the rodent fired, releasing a small, deadly burst of plasma energy that obliterated the wolf’s head in under a second. The mouse shouted and moved backwards when he saw all the blood, bone, and brain fragments splattering all over the ground.

“Fuck!”

The rodent looked to his left and saw the silhouette chasing after him again.

“OH, FUCK!”

The mouse resumed sprinting again, only to screech in pain when he stepped on a needle someone left on the ground. The rodent staggered and began to limp, huffing and sweating as he listened to the sound of his pursuer gradually getting much closer to him. Desperate, the mouse looked around the disheveled building, spotted a human being smoking from a pipe, and immediately reached down and hauled him off the ground.

“Stay back!”

The dark pursuer shook his head before reaching and grabbing a weapon too. The mouse squeaked as he hid behind the human and held him hostage as he pointed a gun up to the back of his neck.

“STAY THE FUCK BACK!”

The hostage was too influenced by the drugs to do much of anything short of questionably grunting and moaning. The mouse whimpered, shaking uncontrollably as he backed away towards one of the barrels someone was starting a fire inside of.

“I’ll kill him! You-you know I will, Cale! DON’T YOU FUCKIN’—”

Cale fired from his weapon, and the same burst of plasma energy that came from the mouse’s weapon erupted from Cale’s gun. The mouse shrieked, thinking he was about to die right then and there. Instead, he heard something violently explode, like a muffled, meaty grenade going off beside his head. The mouse backed away on impulse and let go of the human. When he looked at the human again, he noticed that the man’s head had been blown apart, and his body had fallen to the ground. The mouse whimpered and was about to raise his weapon when Cale fired again, this time using a less lethal shot. The mouse shouted as he was shot in his right arm, and his weapon fell to the ground. Gritting his teeth and panting, the mouse looked at his injured arm, whimpering when he noticed that his paw was dangling from his wrist by mere skin and fur.

“You-you…you shot…you fucking—”

“Name,” Cale growled.

The mouse whimpered as his legs shook. “My fucking paw…I need a doc—”

“Name,” Cale restated.

The mouse backed away, his back now pressed against a wall that was so damaged that there were holes in it exposing the room on the other side. As Cale stepped by the fire, the mouse could clearly see the creature and nearly piddled himself. The mouse stared at the shoeless lion wielding a plasma pistol and scowling at him. His mane was full and scruffy, his face was scarred, his arms and legs were burly, and his yellowish-brown eyes seemed to glow in the dark. Cale only wore a pair of black jeans and an open black vest, revealing his muscular chest and stomach. The mouse briefly thought about running away; it was evident Cale had put on some weight, and the mouse was fully aware of the rumors that had been going around about the lion. Cale curled the fingers on his left paw into a fist and sniffled, wiggling his big nose.

“One name, Georgie. Then I’m gone.”

Georgie shook his head. “They’ll kill me. If they find—”

“I won’t ask again.”

Swallowing hard, the mouse closed his eyes and tried to calm himself down. “Look…they-they’ve given me lots of money! I-I have money! S’all you care about! Just let me live, and I can—”

Cale walked over to the wounded Georgie and immediately grabbed his right paw. With very little effort, he clutched the paw and pulled backwards, listening as the skin and flesh began to break and tear apart. When Cale realized that part of the bone was still attached, he casually took his gun and fired at what was left. The paw snapped off messily, and blood started to gush from the wound. Georgie began to shriek uncontrollably, sliding down onto the ground and staring at his maimed right arm and his now missing paw. Cale looked at the mouse’s paw before shrugging and tossing it into the flaming barrel just a few feet away. As tears streamed down Georgie’s face, the lion crouched down and pressed the barrel of his gun beneath the mouse’s chin.

“NO! I CAN’T TELL YOU!” the mouse protested.

The lion blinked and shrugged. “All right.”

He pressed his plasma pistol against the mouse’s crotch. Georgie’s eyes widened.

“THE QUINTUPLE CARTEL!”

Cale exhaled. “Yes, I know about them. Specify.”

“All of ‘em. Fuck-fucking all of ‘em, all right? They’re all involved! They’re all working—”

“Specify.”

“I don’t know the names.”

Cale growled, his finger grazing the trigger.

“ _Specify._ ”

“I DON’T KNOW THE NAMES!”

Cale blinked. “Too bad.”

The lion started to squeeze the trigger.

“WAIT! A-a-a rabbit. I-I remember. I remember—one of ‘em’s a rabbit. Assassin I think.”

“I’m aware of what kind of anthros are involved in the cartel. Specify.”

“What…whatcha mean ‘specify’? You should already know—”

“Assassin. Baron. Chemist. Mule. Terrorist. All I know so far. Specify.”

“You’re…hunting these anthros, and you don’t fuckin’ know their names?”

Cale smirked. “S’why I found you. Specify.”

Georgie started to blinked repeatedly. He looked over at his bloody stump and started to feel weak. “I’m…I’m, uh…I can’t…they’re, uh, on planet Drorix. Over in, um…in the Zeta Sector.”

“That’s impossible. We’re on planet Tero; how the hell does the Cartel reach out this far?”

“S’point I’m making…involved in all-all sorts of shit…”

Georgie’s eyes started to close. Cale quickly smacked him against his face twice, waking him up.

“Need more details.”

“I don’t…handler. He gave…gave me assignments. Called him Gaines, prolly an alias. Big, giant polar bear…”

“Tch. Ain’t much.”

Cale exhaled as he stood up and put his gun back into its holster. Georgie slowly slouched over on the ground, barely able to keep his eyes open. Cale looked at the blood wound from where his right paw used to be and snorted. He observed the area as well and blinked, shocked that nobody seemed concerned over anything that just happened. Most of the humans and anthros he saw were grumbling to themselves, sleeping, smoking, or injecting themselves with drugs using needles.

“Hey…ambu…amb…call help…”

“What? The police? Now Georgie, I can’t do that. You’ll get arrested! And then they’ll haul your ass to Stercullo Correctional Facility. Or the Gladiator Detention Facility. You don’t wanna go to _neither_.”

Cale chuckled as he turned around and began to walk away. “You’re better off here, Georgie!”

__________________________________________

Somewhere in the vast openness of space, a lone spaceship was idly cruising through the stars, its engine burning fuel at a steady pace. The small ship shaped like a rectangular prism with two jagged wings on the side of it soared forward, with nothing in sight except for thousands of stars and tiny chunks of frozen debris. Within the spaceship, Cale stood near one of the windows, staring outside for a moment to try and clear his mind. He scratched his furry muzzle before he hit a button on the side of the wall just below the glass, which activated a set of metal blinds that immediately concealed the window. The lion turned around and leaned against the wall, staring at his large bedroom consisting of a TV mounted on the wall and a massive bed fit for two. He looked down at the soft, shaggy blue carpet and wiggled his toes before glancing at the closet. Cale felt his chest tightening and grumbled, stomping his way over to a small cabinet set near the bed. He quickly opened it up and pulled out a bottle of pills and a bottle filled with blue sludge.

Cale looked inside the bottle of pills and scowled when he only saw two more remaining. Nevertheless, he dumped both pills into his maw and swallowed hard, shortly before opening up the bottle filled with sludge and drinking nearly a third of the fluids inside. Cale swallowed hard after finishing up and exhaled as he set the bottle back into the cabinet. As he was about to close the door, Cale spotted a small picture of himself standing next to a snow leopard, the two of them smiling as they stood within a snowy, sunny park. Cale stared at the picture for a moment, and then shut the cabinet and stood up.

“Of course I run out _now_ ,” Cale grumbled.

Sighing, Cale snatched a small communication device for his forearm and clamped it on just above his wrist. He looked at all the small buttons on the device and pressed a series of them, moments before he heard garbled static coming out of the device’s speaker system. Cale sat down on his bed and waited until the static cleared, and he heard someone coughing.

“Urgh…yeah, yes? Cale, what is it this time? Why are you using an FCD instead of your phone?”

“I’m in my ship. Don’t think cell phones get a signal—why do you still use a cell phone? It’s 2305; no one uses those stupid things anymore, ‘cept those humans and anthros on Tero.”

“Because I don’t like talking to my arm. What kinda confounded device is a communicator for your forearm? May as well invent a way of talking to someone using nothing but your ass!”

“They did. It’s called farting.”

The person on the other end of the call exhaled. “Is this important, Cale? I’m in the middle of something right now.”

“Refill,” the lion demanded.

“Oh, shit. Um, are you completely out?”

“Took the last two just now.”

The caller huffed. “Damn it, Cale. I told you not to wait until your bottle’s nearly empty.”

Cale blinked. “Shit happens, Dr. Goode. I’m gonna swing by the station. Should only be a few hours—”

“I’m out, Cale. My supplier either got imprisoned or killed. Been spending the last two days trying to find a new one.”

The lion growled audibly. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

“Why didn’t you ask for a refill last week?”

Cale changed the subject. He knew arguing would get him nowhere. “ETA for new pills?”

“Week, maybe two. Do you still have the potions I made you?”

“Three bottles.”

“Okay, then you should be _adequate_ until I get more pills.”

Cale blinked. “I don’t like that word, or the tone you used it in. And the potions don’t stop the side effects from happening. Combat could be difficult for me in the future.”

“That’s too fuckin’ bad, Cale! Life’s full of challenges, and one just presented itself to you. Deal with it!”

Dr. Goode hung up before Cale could say anything else. The lion took off his communication device and tossed it on the nearby counter before rubbing his eyes. Shortly afterwards, he stood up and walked over to his closet, sliding open the metal door and revealing various changes of clothes, along with his spacesuit and an armor outfit lying on the floor. Cale moved some of his armor out the way before he grabbed a rectangular bag he had hidden in the very corner. The feline pulled out the bag and stood near the foot of his bed, scowling as he gazed at the green package.

“Goddamn it,” Cale snarled.

The lion ripped open the bag and started to undo his trousers.

_____________________________________________

He knew he still had a mission to finish, pills or no pills. So the lion headed over to a space station that was gradually rotating right next to several asteroids. From afar, the station looked like a very wide, upside-down cone. Cale could see dozens of ships that were flying in and out of the station; it had a blue and black color scheme, as well as a few metal rings built around the wider portion of the floating station. A few lights occasionally flickered near the bottom of the cone-like structure, while Cale noticed various antennae sticking out from the top of the station so the occupants could receive messages from several light-days away. After Cale maneuvered around the asteroids and entered the docking bay of the station, he stepped out of his ship and into the bay. As always, no one was there except for the security guards and law enforcement officials from all sectors of the galaxy. Cale spotted two weasels stepping out of a gray spaceship, with the two of them hauling a four-armed, wasp-like, bipedal creature around with his hands tied behind his back. Cale raised his eyebrow as he looked at the creature, while one of the guards approached him and snorted.

“You gotta move it,” the guard growled.

The lion turned and looked at the guard who approached him, the burly rhino clad from his feet all the way up to his chest in vibrant blue armor with streaks of yellow lines in-between the pieces of metal.

“It’s Cale Tomlik. I stop here all the time.”

“Then go about your business and leave. Been real active today and we can’t have visitors hogging up docking spaces in the bay.”

Cale grumbled and shoved the rhino out the way. He stomped over towards a door leading to the lower levels before digging into his pocket and showing two of the guards his ID card. They allowed him to pass, and Cale exhaled once he found himself walking down a set of stairs in a narrow stairwell. When he reached the bottom level, Cale shoved open the door, and blenched when a foul odor assaulted his nostrils. He scrunched up his face before stepping inside and shutting the door, walking along the cold metal floor. Cale looked left and right inside the corridor he was in, where he spotted several cells—most of which were currently empty. All of them were sealed primitively, the doors composed of plain metal with a small window that was barred. The lion looked at all of the cells and kept walking through the corridor, up until he arrived in an enclosed, cubic area where all the walls were lined up with cells, some of which were actually occupied. Cale gazed at the metal doors around him before he looked in the corner of the room at the lone metal desk that provided any form of decoration to the blue and gray facility.

“Stollar?”

Someone sitting behind the desk yelped. Cale stared at the nervous-looking, gray-skinned creature with red pupils and black sclerae. He frantically looked at his right hand—which Cale noticed was covered in white goop—and immediately wiped it off on his desk.

“Fuckin—Cale! So, um—goddamn it…hold on.”

The lion exhaled and rolled his eyes as Stollar immediately crouched down behind his desk, swearing and shuffling his clothes around. Seconds later, he walked out into the open, sporting a wide grin on his face as he finished zipping up his brown trousers.

“Heeeeeeeeeeeey, buddy! My good pal! My good friend!”

Cale stared at the short, five-foot-tall alien with only three webbed toes and four fingers on each hand. The lion kept staring at Stollar’s big, pointy ears, his dangly arms and oversized hands, and his long, gray muzzle. Cale still couldn’t tell what kind of alien Stollar was; he looked like some kind of disturbing, furless wolf or a naked mole-rat with a muzzle as long as an alligator’s.

“What do you want?”

The alien emitted a sloppy, growling noise and slobbered. “I was…I was wondering, um…did you bring me anything? Any more of those readings? I’m, uh, heh, looking for something new to…observe in my free time.”

“GO FUCK A WHORE FROM THE TESLA MOONS ALREADY! GETTIN’ SICK OF HEARING YOU MOAN LIKE A MULE!” shouted one of the prisoners from his cell.

A few other prisoners laughed at the comment, while Stollar grumbled as he looked down at the floor dejectedly. Cale looked at the alien and sniffed.

“I’m not wasting my money buying you pornography all the time. Why not just order a video?”

“Because there are prisoners here! And I broke my earpiece set, so all the prisoners will be able to hear…it…”

“You mean masturbate to the noise.”

“I swear, the last prisoner in that cell over there?” Stollar said, pointing to a door with the number “20” written above. “He started humping the damn door! You know how disgusting it is to clean daemunus semen off the floor?!”

“I would prefer if you _didn’t_ go into detail.”

Stollar exhaled. “All right, all right, fine. Let’s, err, head somewhere more private.”

After nodding, Cale followed Stollar back into the corridor, and they walked inside one of the vacant cells and shut the door so they wouldn’t have to worry about anyone overhearing their conversation.

“So how’d it go?”

“Got some info on the cartel.”

“Is it credible this time?”

“I threatened to blow off Georgie’s testicles. It’s credible.”

Stollar frowned. “You didn’t retrieve the information silently?”

“No.”

“Were there any casualties?”

“Two. Georgie killed an anthro. I killed a human. Georgie’s probably dead too; left him bleeding out in an alley.”

“What—why?! Was the human being hostile?!”

“No. Georgie took him hostage.”

“AND YOU SHOT HIM?!”

Cale shrugged. “He was a drug user. Prolly been one for years. I did him a favor. S’not like we should care if one less human is put in the ground anyways.”

“I can’t fucking believe you, Cale! Did anyone see you kill the human?!”

“Probably.”

“ARGH!” Stollar exclaimed, smacking his left hand against his forehead. “You can’t keep exposing yourself and causing collateral damage! The Intergalactic Police Association is already up my ass about our little ‘operation’!”

“Tell ‘em to back off.”

“‘Tell ‘em to back off,’” Stollar repeated, mocking Cale’s voice. “You know it ain’t that simple.”

“Make it simple.”

“I CAN’T—fine. Fine!” Stollar held up his hands, hoping that Cale wouldn’t blurt out another retort. “It’s fine. Forgot who I was talking to.”

Stollar exhaled harshly and folded his arms. He scowled as he glared at Cale and shook his head slightly. “Collateral damage aside, did Georgie give you anything?”

Nodding, Cale blinked and said, “Planet Drorix, over in the Zeta Sector. The cartel operates from there.”

“But he doesn’t know who the five heads are?”

“Said the Assassin is some type of rabbit. S’bout it.”

“Did he give you anything else?”

“The name Gaines ring a bell? Georgie reported to him; he’s some kind of polar bear.”

Stollar scoffed. “That’s not much.”

“Feel free to go down to Tero and ask him yourself,” Cale snarled.

“Yeah, yeah, I know you did you best; I’ll stop…you and your damn temper.”

After Stollar finished talking to the lion, he stuffed his left hand into his pocket, grunting as he moved his fingers against a crinkly paper and pulled out what appeared to be some kind of snack bar. His nostrils widened, Cale watched as Stollar ripped the package open, exposing a candy bar that was smothered in peanuts and tiny, dark green spheres that looked like marbles. When Stollar bit into the candy, he munched on the snack noisily as drool ran down his mandible.

“Wanna bite?”

Cale looked at the light green substance in the center of the candy bar that was leaking out and had the same consistency as melted caramel.

“I’m good. Not a fan of devouring something I’m sure came from a slug’s anus.”

“Tch! Anthros…” After Stollar took another bite and chewed for a moment longer, he opened his mouth and said, “I’ll head up and run the name ‘Gaines’ through the database, but we’re probably gonna get a buncha matches. S’not like this is a small galaxy.”

“No. But I doubt there are that many polar bears named Gaines who are also associated with Georgie Huxon on planet Drorix. Hopefully that’ll be enough.”

Stollar shoved the rest of the candy bar into his mouth and gulped it down with a hard swallow. “True.”

Sniffling, Cale headed for the cell door and began to open it when Stollar grabbed his right arm firmly and held him back.

“Hey, hey.” The alien blinked and rubbed his big red nose as Cale moved backwards. “How you holdin’ up?” Stollar asked softly.

The lion looked down at the alien’s concerned face before he snorted and brushed a paw against his whiskers. Eventually, Cale grunted as he reached down and lowered his pants a bit. Stollar grimaced when he noticed that instead of underwear, Cale was wearing a diaper.

“That bad, huh?”

“Ran outta pills again,” Cale said, huffing as he pulled his pants back up. “Dr. Goode told me I prolly won’t get any more for another week. And quite frankly, I don’t feel like burning through a week’s worth of underwear.”

“You still got the potions?”

“Yeah, I got that damn sludge. That doesn’t stop the side-effects, if you catch my drift.”

“Dont’cha mean _smell_ your drift?”

Cale glared at Stollar’s cheeky grin and smacked him against his face with the back of his paw. Stollar grumbled and rubbed his cheek.

“Hey, thousands were exposed to that shit, Cale. S’not like you the only one who has to put up with it.”

The lion rubbed his face. “Just wish they’d find the cure to this shit already.”

Stollar shrugged. “You’ve lasted this long. What’s another five years, right? Or ten. Or a hundred. …Or maybe—”

“Stollar,” Cale snarled.

“Yeah, yeah, I’ll stop. Just, y’know, keep plowin’ through, kay? Big, burly anthro like you? Wouldn’t be surprised if that pathogen burned _itself_ out trying to kill you!”

Cale sniffed. “Sure. I’m heading back to the ship. May as well head to Drorix now, shave some time off while I wait. Make sure you forward me all the info you have on Gaines once you get it.”

“You got it!”

Cale stepped out of the cell and headed for the stairway once more, ascending up into the docking bay so he could leave the station.

________________________________________

Cale sat alone in the small lunchroom of his spaceship, softly munching on a plate full of roasted lamb meat, golden rice, and chunks of tomatoes and spinach all mixed together. He noisily devoured all of the food before reaching over and guzzling down an entire can filled with sweetened, carbonated water. When he finished his meal, Cale walked into his bedroom, took off all of his clothes, and stepped into the bathroom. Once he turned on the light, he walked over to a scale he had on the floor beside the toilet. The nude lion looked down at the weight the scale calculated, moments before he stepped off and mumbled. He held his round, cream-colored belly with his right paw before exhaling and shaking his head.

_S’a little weight_ , he thought. _Just exercise more._

Cale stepped in front of the mirror and yawned, exposing his massive mouth and all the slobbery teeth in his gums. He smacked a few times and rolled his tongue around his mouth, grunting when he felt a tooth wiggling, on the verge of popping out. His maw open, Cale reached into his mouth, grabbed the loose tooth, and grunted as he yanked it out with no effort. The lion looked at the bloody tooth between his fingers and dropped it into the sink before turning on the faucet and rinsing it down the drain.

_Damn I wish I was a shark_ , Cale thought to himself.

The lion spat blood into the sink a few times before he rubbed his forehead and exhaled, looking at the rest of the teeth in his mouth. When he was certain that the others were firmly secured in his rotting gums, Cale reached over and started curling the fingers on his right paw. He tapped his right arm multiple times to see if it would jolt, and then reached down and gripped the corner of the sink as firmly as he could. He waited until he started to hear a faint groaning noise before he let go and exhaled. Cale stared at his right arm, examining the fur and flesh. But he knew what was buried beneath it all. Smirking, Cale lowered his arm and sniffed.

_That still works_ , he thought.

Next, Cale reached up and stretched his left eyelid open as far as possible to expose his entire eyeball. Using his right paw, Cale gently reached up with two fingers, stuck both of them into his eye socket, and grit his teeth as he slowly wrenched his left eyeball out of the socket. The lion exhaled as he held the eyeball in his paw and rolled it around a few times. He turned the sink back on and rinsed the dirt and debris off the artificial eye before shaking off the water and subsequently placing the eyeball back into its socket.

_That’s still fine_ , he thought.

Cale backed away and looked down at his crotch. Blinking, the lion reached down with his left paw and started to rub his groin, all while gradually thinking lustful, sexual thoughts. It didn’t take long before his penis became erect and a small amount of pre-ejaculate emerged from the glans. Cale let go of his penis and huffed.

“And _that_ still works,” he said with relief.

Satisfied with his checkup, Cale exited the bathroom and shut off the light. As he entered the bedroom again, he sat down beside his pile of clothes on the floor and opened up the cabinet once more. But instead of taking out a bottle of blue potion, he grabbed the picture frame depicting him and the snow leopard. Cale stared at the image for almost a minute straight before he chuckled and set it back into the cabinet again. Then Cale turned and looked at the diaper on the floor and immediately reached up and grabbed his forearm communication device. He inputted several buttons again and listened to static on the other end.

“Yeah?”

“It’s Cale.”

“I know that! Why didn’t—oh, fuck it. What do you need?”

“You have the pills yet, Dr. Goode?”

“I said it’d be another week. Give me time and stop pestering me!”

“Lost another tooth,” Cale grumbled.

“You did?”

“Correct.”

“Shit. Um, okay. Just…don’t put too much strain on your body and you should be fine. And don’t put too much strain on your organs either. That includes your stomach, Cale!”

Cale glared at the diaper. “Trust me, I’ve stopped eating curry.”

“Good. Now please don’t contact me again unless it’s an emergency. One week, Cale.”

“Understood.”

Cale hung up the call and tossed his FCD on the nightstand by his bed. Rubbing his face, Cale swore to himself before he stood up and inevitably put his diaper back on. Feeling emasculated and exhausted, Cale shut off the lights in his bedroom before he lied on his mattress and stared up at the ceiling. He thought about his internal issues, and the events that led to where he was now. He thought about the snow leopard in the picture he refused to get rid of. He thought about the Quintuple Cartel and the client who hired him to take down the organization. All sorts of thoughts crept into Cale’s mind, to the point where it made him mentally fatigued.

The lion gradually closed his eyes, hoping his body would maintain itself long enough to complete his objective.


	3. The Liaison

Cale grunted as he finished up. He remained still with his tail hiked up in the air, squatting in the alley and not caring if anyone in the city spotted him. Huffing, Cale reached down as he pulled up his black trousers and undergarments and zipped them back up. Then the chubby lion exhaled as he walked out of the alleyway and stepped onto the sidewalk, his bare footpaws subjected to the harsh, clammy wind.

“YOU DIDN’T MUTE YOUR EARPIECE!”

Cale blinked as he wiggled his right ear and felt the tiny, virtually invisible earpiece he had lodged into his ear lobe. Somewhere in the other sector of the galaxy, Stollar was sitting in front of a colossal amount of computer equipment with a disgusted look on his face as he glared at a computer monitor. Cale snorted and rubbed his nose.

“Wasn’t aware I was being noisy. Apologies.”

“I could hear it splattering on the ground!”

Cale blinked. “You weren’t down here. Be glad you didn’t smell it.”

“I _can_ smell it! How the fu—” Stollar stopped talking, and Cale heard the alien sniffing noisily over the earpiece. “Oh goddamn it, hang on. TULKI! DID YOU SHIT ON THE FLOOR AGAIN?!”

The lion grumbled as he listened to Stollar getting up from his chair and walking away from his station. After he departed, Cale folded his arms and decided to spend his time examining the surroundings. The city still wasn’t as advanced as the rest of the planet, judging by the sheer amount of gas-operated vehicles that still populating the streets. He was standing in a shady suburban area, where most of the buildings were composed of apartment complexes with stoops leading up to the main building. Some of the street lights weren’t working, their light bulbs occasionally flickering. All of the telephone poles were scratched and worn out, and Cale spotted three of them with a “Missing Person’s” flyer posted on them. Cale didn’t see any dealers or vagrants standing around trying to sell wandering civilians any drugs or weapons, but what he couldn’t see disturbed him more. When Cale began to walk along the sidewalk, he saw someone open a window and burble in a gurgled, wet tone before a tentacle slid out of the window. Cale raised an eyebrow when a gray snout slowly moved out of the window, looking as if some kind of dinosaur was revealing itself. 

Cale walked away just as the snout began to reveal its teeth, not wanting to see what was inside the building. As the lion moved down the street, he sniffed the air, detecting the pungent scent of smog from nearby factories and pollution caused from the vehicles and all the exhaust they dispelled. Cale spotted a tail disappear into an alley and looked down the dark pathway, where he heard someone muttering in a foreign language before spotting dark red eyes down the back of the alley. The lion grumbled as he moved away from the alley and kept traversing past the apartment complexes before he saw a small tarsier throw herself out of a window. She latched onto one of the streetlights and slid down to the ground, only clad in a gray tank-top and blue jeans, before she turned and looked at Cale with her massive eyes. The tarsier giggled to herself as she wagged her tail, holding a giant brick of strange black and brown crystals sealed tightly with plastic.

“You quiet,” she whispered. “You be quiet now!”

The lion blinked again before the tarsier sprinted away, giggling the entire time and disappearing down a manhole cover. Cale observed the whole event take place and cleared his throat, shortly before two anthros burst out of an apartment, two common, thick-gutted chimpanzees who were both shirtless and covered in sweat. One of the primates spotted Cale and pointed at him.

“YOU! YEAH! YOU SEE A TARSIER WITH A GIANT BRICK?!”

The feline blinked. And then Cale lazily pointed behind his back.

“Thanks!”

Both primates started to sprint down the street, panting and sweating profusely. Cale noticed both of them missed the manhole cover entirely, but he didn’t bother notifying them. After the primates ran off, Cale heard someone grunt and sit down over his earpiece.

“I’m back,” Stollar said, sounding grouchy.

“Good. So, been ten minutes, and I’ve discovered that this city has some kind of tentacle alien and black rock dealers.”

“People _still_ smoke crack?”

“I said black rock. S’lot worse from what I’ve heard about it.”

“Joy.”

Sighing, Cale resumed walking down the street. He looked at his zipped-up black vest and long pants before reaching down and making sure the tarsier didn’t steal his plasma pistol. Feeling relieved, Cale stuffed his paws into his pockets as he walked.

“So where’s this Gaines fellow?”

“Uhhhhhh—”

“I don’t like that tone, Stollar.”

Stollar stammered. “He, um, he usually hangs out at the Neon Pole. That’s where Georgie was always spotted at whenever he did business with him.”

“S’been over a week since Georgie died.”

“You mean since you killed him?”

“I can detect your sass, Stollar.”

“I mean, if you brought him with you, he could easily lead you to Gaines’ location. We’re flying blind as it is.”

Cale sniffed. “You know anything else about Gaines?”

“Not much. Got arrested for dealing, conspiracy to commit murder—the usual bollocks.”

“Hmph. Good enough I suppose.”

“Just be careful when you’re in the club, Cale.”

“Duly noted.”

____________________________________

_“Hey.”_

_Cale blinked as he turned and looked at the snow leopard standing next to his stool. The lion raised an eyebrow._

_“Yeah?”_

_“Anyone sitting here?”_

_Cale looked down at the stool next to his with curiosity. “I don’t see no one’s name on it.”_

_“Good!” The snow leopard grunted as he sat down on the barstool right beside the chubby lion. After exhaling and rubbing his nose, the snow leopard ordered a casual drink. Meanwhile, Cale finished consuming the brownish-gold fluids in his glass before he snorted and looked at the leopard._

_“So, um, come here often?” he asked._

_Cale chuckled. “Ain’t got no job. Pretty much live here.”_

_“Really? Big guy like you and you ain’t got a job?”_

_Cale shrugged before saying, “Got tired of saying ‘paper or plastic.’ Got tired of driving anthros around. Got tired of shooting people and aliens cause the government said so.”_

_“Oh. So it seems like panhandling and drinking is the new way to go.”_

_Scowling, Cale glared at the snow leopard, and he quickly raised his paws in defense. “Hey, hey, I’m not judging! Just, uh, hate seeing a big anthro like you go to waste!”_

_Cale kept staring at the leopard, gazing at his whiskers and his neatly-ironed collared shirt and slacks. If anything, he looked like some kind of intern or someone about to go to an interview. The lion waved for the bartender to come over and ordered another drink._

_“Hey.”_

_“What now?” Cale barked._

_The snow leopard lifted his right sleeve, revealing a tattoo of an octopus’s head with a dagger going through it. Cale looked down at his left arm, which depicted a similar tattoo. Neither of them said another word for nearly a minute. Cale slowly grinned as he stared at the snow leopard and wagged his tail._

_“S’your name?”_

_“Keevonu. Yours?”_

_“Tomlik.”_

_“Huh. So, Tomlik, it seems like you’re currently unemployed…you wanna change that?”_

_Cale stared at Keevonu as he smirked at him. The bartender came by with another drink for the lion. Cale grabbed the glass and drank from it._

___________________________________

And then exhaled after slamming the glass back down. Cale shook his head and grunted, straightening himself up on the stool. The Neon Pole was similar to many other clubs the anthro had been to. There were no dance floors, but various platforms depicting scantily-clad females dancing and entertaining some of the clientele. A group of wolves were all sitting down near one of the platforms, thumping their tails in their seats and panting with their tongues out as they stared at a yellow-skinned alien with four antennae on her head slowly take off her shirt. Across from where Cale sat, there were five different hallways leading to an assortment of private rooms. To Cale’s right, he spotted the exit, a massive metal door that had two burly hippos standing next to it with folded arms, and to his left Cale could see a few other private rooms and meeting spots only blocked off by a set of beads dangling from a doorframe. Grumbling, Cale moved away from the bar and slowly made his way down towards one of the empty tables that had a digital magazine on it.

“Any sign of Gaines?” Stollar asked.

Cale touched the magazine, and the cover magically dissolved, showing the contents of the first page. Everytime the lion brushed one or two of his fingers against the electronic magazine, it would show the contents of a new page on the same screen.

“Negative,” Cale said softly. “Some dancers, some dealers, lots of drinkers. Nothing out the ordinary. Trying not to arouse suspicion.”

Cale blinked as he looked up from his magazine and spotted one of the bouncers moving over towards the private rooms. The bouncer peeked inside and murmured a question, and then nodded and walked away. Cale stood up, taking the magazine with him as he slowly pretended to read it while walking. He walked right past one of the private rooms, and scowled when a revolting stench filled his nostrils.

“ _Fuck_ , that’s strong,” Cale said, scowling and covering his nose with his arm.

“What? You in the bathrooms?”

“Negative, Stollar. Someone in the Rottili Family’s here. Think it’s Rellis.”

“You saw him?”

“I _smelled_ him. I’ve dealt with those rats before; I recognize that stench anywhere.”

There was a pause before Stollar sniffed. “Talk to him.”

“Absolutely not. Doubt he remembers who I am, but his brothers do. If any of his brothers are here too, I’m screwed.”

“Negotiate with him then. Try to—”

“Negative,” Cale said, sitting down at a different table. “You said Gaines comes here quite often. It’s getting late. I’m assuming he conducts business at night. And if so, then he should be here soon. I’ll just wait it out until I see some polar bear who matches the description you gave me.”

“Uhhhhhhh, what are you gonna do until then?”

Cale looked down at his table and saw a menu. He opened it up and raised his eyebrows at the vast selection he could choose from.

“Huh…they serve caribou meat here.”

“Aren’t you trying to _lose_ weight?”

Cale shut off his earpiece.

_________________________________________________

Groaning, the chubby lion rubbed his face, looking down at the various plates in front of him that he had finished cleaning. Cale scooted backwards in his chair, grimacing as he unbuttoned his vest and allowed his now distended gut to hang over the waistband of his pants. Shutting his eyes, Cale turned his earpiece back on and belched.

“The fuck, Cale?! You’ve been gone for almost three hours!”

“I’m aware of the time frame,” Cale responded, sounding fatigued.

“What have you been doing this whole time?!”

Cale looked at the twelve plates and dozens of meatless bones in front of him and blinked. “Self-loathing.”

Cale could hear Stollar groaning over the earpiece. “Did you at least find Gaines?”

“Never showed. Club’s closing in a half-hour. Not sure he’s coming—shit. Give me a few minutes.”

Cale swiftly shut off his earpiece again just as one of the hippo bouncers approached his table.

“Get up.”

The lion blinked. “I haven’t devoured _all_ the meat in the kitchen, have I?”

“Mr. Rottili wants to see you. He’s in Room Five.”

Grunting, Cale scooted his chair backwards and started to head for the door. “Sorry. Tell him I’ll call later.”

The hippo immediately reached for a knife, while Cale went for his gun. As the lion started to raise his weapon, he looked out the corner of his left eye and saw the other bouncer holding his weapon and glaring right at him.

“Don’t make this difficult. Come with us.”

Cale swore in his mind and let go of his gun. He looked around the club and could see that other civilians were in the area who were in danger should a firefight ensue. So the lion followed one of the hippo bouncers while the other one followed him from behind, breathing deeply as he kept his hand down near his firearm. The three anthros all disappeared down a corridor where most of the private rooms were, and the lion heard grunting and moaning from within the barricaded, secret rooms. The lead hippo bouncer slammed his fist against a door with the number “5” labelled on it, and one of the rats from within opened it up. Before Cale could say anything else, the bouncer standing behind Cale shoved him inside the room and shut the door. Cale soon found himself stuck inside of a red room that was fogged with acrid smoke. Cale squinted a bit as he waved some of the smog away from his face, and he could see two rats clad in pinstripe suits carrying submachine guns and standing near the giant sofa in the room.

“Cale Tomlik! So lovely to see you again!”

Sighing, the lion stared directly ahead at the corpulent rat who was sitting on the sofa, his dirty footpaws propped up on the table in front of him. A thick cigar hung from his mouth, the black rat grinning as he slowly removed the smoking device and blew out a long stream of smoke. Cale gazed at the fat rat’s sweaty, black pinstriped suit that he could somehow fit into despite his girth before looking at the rat’s sinister smile.

“Didn’t know you was in town! You miss me?”

Cale folded his arms. “It’s hard to miss someone as hefty as you, Rellis.”

Rellis Rottili laughed so hard that Cale could see small bits of saliva flying from his mouth. His rat companions flicked their eyes at him, considerably wondering if the obese rodent would break out into a coughing fit or choke on his cigar. But after the rat finished laughing, he tapped ash off the end of his cigar and set it back in his mouth.

“You ain’t so thin yourself! Been gaining weight since our last encounter!”

Sniffing, Cale stared at the rat and said, “And you’ve gained a thicker stench. Suppose we’re even now.”

Rellis chuckled again, biting down into his cigar. “Yes, indeed. But I didn’t beckon you here so we could sit here and have quipping matches with each other! So I’ll make this simple, Cale: tell me why you’re here. You walk out the club. Hell, I may even help you with your endeavors!”

Cale scoffed. “Sure. You mean you’ll call your brothers here to come torture my ass.”

Rellis removed his cigar and blew out more smoke. “If Royman or Rillkyn were here, you’d be dead already. You know that.”

“That doesn’t comfort me.”

Rellis paused for a moment and shoved what was left of his cigar into an ash tray, extinguishing it. He scooted over on the sofa and patted his right paw on one of the cushions.

“Sit down.”

“Negative.”

One of the guards lifted his weapon and pointed it at Cale’s face. Rellis grinned.

“Sit down. I won’t bite ya, Cale.”

There was no point in denying the rat’s request. He definitely didn’t feel like getting killed over something as simple as not sitting down. So he walked over to the sofa and sat down, and Rellis immediately scooted over so he was sitting down next to the lion. The obese rat salivated as he looked at Cale’s open vest, staring at his chest and belly.

“Now ain’t this much better? Got a much better view of my beautiful face!”

Cale looked at Rellis’ face and tried not to grimace. His muzzle was shaggy, his nose had hairs coming out the nostrils, wax had been building up in his ears, crust was forming around the edges of his eyes, and there was food stuck between his yellow teeth. Cale could tell from the stench of Rellis’ breath and the visible plaque and bacteria forming around his gums that the rat had an awful case of gingivitis.

“Yes, ‘better’ view. And I got a better whiff of your breath now. S’what I always wanted,” Cale said flatly.

Rellis laughed jovially again, his big belly shaking as more saliva came out his mouth. “I know it is, dear Cale! I know it is!”

The rat lecherously licked his rotting teeth. “So tell me why you’re here.”

“I’m looking for someone. Happy now?”

“Uh-huh,” Rellis said, as he reached down and started to unbutton his jacket. “Who, exactly?”

“That’s classified. It’s no one from your family, no worries.”

Rellis didn’t say anything. He continued to unbutton his jacket, taking it off and tossing it onto the sofa. Then the rat stood up as he pulled his dress shirt from out of his trousers and started to take it off.

“The hell you doing?”

Sighing, Rellis tossed his dress shirt onto the sofa as well, showing off his plump belly and his sagging breasts. The rat put his paws behind his head and stretched, displaying his hairy armpits for Cale.

“S’real hot in here, Cale! Trying to cool off is all!”

Cale turned away as the rat kept showing off his stomach, shaking it a bit and letting it slosh around, before he stepped in front of the lion so his big belly was inches from Cale’s muzzle. Cale scowled when Rellis reached down and scratched his belly-button, scraping out some of the built-up dirt inside.

“You like?” Rellis asked innocently.

“ _No_ ,” Cale snarled. “If you even think—”

“Now c’mon, Cale. This ain’t prison! I’d never do _that_ to you! …Not unless you wanted it.”

Rellis winked at Cale and grinned, moments before he started undoing his pants.

“Now my pups here said I got a _thick_ ass, but I wanna get a second opinion!”

Cale huffed and rubbed his head. “Fuck’s sake—I’m looking for someone from the Quintuple Cartel! Some polar bear—I don’t know his real name, only his alias!”

Rellis nodded. “Good, good! We’re getting somewhere finally. I’ve actually had a few run-ins with the Cartel myself, so maaaaaaaaaaaaybe I can help you!”

“Can you please put your shirt back on first?”

Rellis shook his head. And then he dropped his pants, showing off his wide thighs and the red fundoshi he was wearing that barely covered his groin. Cale looked up at the rat and narrowed his eyes.

“You’re doing this shit on purpose, aren’t you?”

“I’ve no idea what you’re talkin’ about!”

Rellis turned around and grunted as he started to stretch and bend over, making sure his humongous rump was right in Cale’s face. 

“See, I saw them humans on TV one night—them fat ass Asian wrestlers, um, them sumo wrestlers! And they were aaaaaaaallllll flabby and chunky and only wearing these, um…what’s this thing again?”

“Fundoshi,” said one of the guards.

“A fundoshi, right! And I just had to get me some of ‘em!”

Rellis backed up and raised his thick tail, displaying the red string that was supposed to cover the crevice between his buttocks and failing miserably. Cale reached up and waved a paw in front of his nose when the stench of Rellis’ unwashed rump filled his nostrils.

“So whatcha think, Cale? This don’t make me look fat, do it?”

Cale snarled as he reached up and shoved Rellis away. The fat rat stumbled and nearly fell on the floor as Cale stood up, while the two guards immediately raised their guns again.

“Gaines! All right?! The polar bear’s name is Gaines! And yes, that fundoshi makes you look fat!”

Rellis turned around and wiped some sweat from his face. “Oh good. Was hoping it would.”

_Fucker_ , Cale thought.

“There. Now that wasn’t difficult at all, was it?” Rellis said, clasping his paws together.

“You gonna help me now, or you gonna fully strip and show off your dirty balls?”

Rellis waved a paw. “Nah. Only my biggest fans get to see that! …So then, you said Gaines? Did he work with some courier named Georgie?”

“That’s what Georgie told me after I shot his paw off.”

Rellis exhaled deeply. “Alas, no. I’ve no idea where Gaines lives. I know he doesn’t live near a parking garage four blocks away from here. And I’m not aware of the yellow SUV he typically drives. Shame really. I was supposed to meet him at that garage about ten minutes ago, but I told him I might be late.”

The rat shrugged. “Really wish I could help ya!”

Cale nodded. “It’s okay. You tried.”

Before Rellis could attempt to “entice” Cale any further, the lion immediately rushed out of the private room, leaving Rellis still only clad in nothing but his fundoshi.

____________________________________

Gaines swore with frustration as he tried to light his cigarette with the lighter that refused to emit a flame. The polar bear panted several times as he looked at the lighter, shaking it multiple times in hopes of thinking it would somehow make the device suddenly work.

“This fucking…WORK!”

Gaines gritted his teeth as he pressed his thumb against the lighter’s wheel several more times. He saw a few sparks, but no flame emerged. Frustrated, Gaines spat out his cigarette and tossed his lighter over the side of the parking garage. After putting his paws on the edge of the concrete wall, Gaines looked down into the streets, staring at the gas-guzzling cars, motorcycles, and trucks idly moving down the roads, the drivers going about their night like any normal civilian would. Shaking his head, Gaines lifted his left arm and pressed a few buttons on his FCD before hearing a series of static and electronic interferences.

“Go ahead.”

“Hey, Kolson!”

Gaines could hear the goat on the other end groaning. “I’m a little busy now, Gaines. Is this important?”

“You’re _always_ busy. And yeah, this is important! Where’s that fat fuck, Rellis? I thought you said the Rottili Family was good for their word!”

“What did he tell you?”

“Nothing out the ordinary. He told me he contacted you—which he did—and said he wanted to move some weapons out the country, get involved with the Cartel’s organization. Then I told him we should talk in private, and he said he’d meet me tonight at a parking garage.”

“And he still hasn’t showed up?”

“I’ve been sitting on my ass about a half-hour now. There ain’t no sign or smell of the fucker.”

“Leave. If he wants to do business with us, he needs to know how to show up on time. Can’t have anything hindering our schedules; you know how Baron is.”

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve heard a lot about the Baron.” Gaines exhaled. “Sorry to bother you. See ya.”

“Good night.”

Gaines hung up the call and lowered his arm. Swearing and mumbling to himself, the polar bear stuck his paws into the pockets of his tan shorts with a camouflage pattern on them and strolled back over to his yellow SUV. The white-furred bear opened up the driver’s door and got inside before slamming it shut. The engine was still running; Gaines left his key in the car, thinking that Rellis would show up as he waited outside to have a smoke. But that never happened. The polar bear reached down so he could set the SUV into its driving position. He glanced up in the rearview mirror and spotted Cale sitting in the back seat.

“FUC—ACK!”

Cale wrapped his left arm around the driver’s seat, applying pressure around Gaines’ throat. He used his right paw to take out his plasma pistol, which he slowly moved around the seat so he could press it down against Gaines’ crotch.

“Left your doors unlocked,” Cale said deeply. “Hmm. Sloppy.”

“I’m-I’m having a bad fuckin’ night okay? I—ACK! Look…look, take-take the car. Take my wallet. You don’t—”

“Shut up. I know who you are, Gaines. I know what you’re involved in.”

“I’m just…I’m just a mechanic. I work on cars, that’s all!”

“Mm.” Still pointing his pistol at Gaines, Cale loosened his grip on the bear’s neck so he could reach down with his left paw and grope Gaines’ left pocket. He pulled out a large firearm and growled as he examined it. “A mechanic has a Mark XIX Desert Eagle? Even for protection, that’s a bit overkill.”

Cale quickly released the gun’s magazine and set the gun on the backseat beside him, shortly before looking at one of the bullets in the magazine.

“Aaaaaaaaaand this looks like…hmm, .44?”

“.50,” Gaines growled.

“Wow. The vehicles you repair must be lethal for you to carry _that_ kind of cartridge.”

Gaines snarled. “The fuck you want?”

“Names. That’s all. Georgie couldn’t give ‘em to me. You will.”

“Tch! What names? You already know mine; you’ve already got the drop on me. Just arrest me or kill me and be done with it. And judging from your tone, I’m assuming you killed Georgie already…was wondering why he hasn’t been answering my calls.”

“Yes. Now, I can make this long and arduous, but to be blunt, I’m tired. And grouchy. And I just spent the last three hours gaining five more pounds. And quite frankly, my bowels haven’t been functioning properly. So I’m not in the best of moods.”

“Hmph. So go wear a diaper. That kinda thing tends to happen to old farts like you.”

Cale scowled after hearing the bear’s comment, and he pressed the barrel of his gun against Gaines’ crotch to the point where he grunted.

“Assassin. Chemist. Terrorist. Mule. Baron. I want all their names.”

Gaines chuckled. “The five bosses, eh? Forget it. You know how this works. I talk, I die. And while I would like to go home with my balls intact, I’d rather suffer castration than what the Baron or his associates will do to me if I squeal.”

“Give me the names. You go home.”

Gaines shook his head. “Feel free to torture me. Won’t work.”

Cale blinked. “You gave me permission to torture you?”

Gaines nodded. “I won’t talk. You can count on that.”

___________________________________________

“OKAY, OKAY, I’LL FUCKIN’ TALK! SHIT!” Gaines shrieked.

Cale was inside of the Neon Pole once again, smirking this time as Gaines sat on a giant sofa with his paws tied behind his back. He was in the same private room Cale was in earlier. Rellis was still inside, stripped all the way down to his fundoshi and bending over so he could display his colossal buttocks in front of Gaines’ face.

“So whatcha think, Gaines? Swap it out with brown? Be a lot easier to cover up them skid marks back there.”

Gaines gagged when Rellis backed up, his heavy rump nearly touching the polar bear’s moist nose.

“Can y’all at least gimme nose plugs?!” Gaines begged.

“No. Give me names, you walk. Or else Rellis here is gonna have a very pleasant evening with you,” Cale threatened.

Gaines didn’t say anything and held his tongue. So Rellis exhaled as he grabbed his fundoshi and pulled it down, exposing the filthy crevice between his buttocks.

“Hey, Gaines, kinda getting itchy back there.” Rellis smacked his left buttock and giggled. “Whip that tongue out and start licking!”

“FUCK!” Gaines moved his head backwards and gagged again. “Okay, fine, goddamn it! Milz Dillvor! She’s the assassin you’re referring to—some prissy bunny or some shit. Real good with a rifle; I usually contact her whenever the Baron has new targets for her. I give her all the details, she handles the hits!”

“That is only one name. I need four more,” Cale demanded.

“She’s the only one I deal with; I don’t know everybody! I’m not _that_ connected!”

Cale looked at Rellis and nodded. The naked rat grinned widely as he gradually turned around, reaching down and scratching his dangling testicles.

“Ain’t an anthro into asses. Don’t blame ya! Last time someone rimmed me, I blew a huge fart in their face anyways.”

Exhaling, Rellis folded his arms and felt his phallus slowly extending. “Guess you’re more of a ‘cheese’ anthro, right? Got a whole lotta that on me!”

Gaines looked at Rellis’ uncircumcised penis and noticed a repulsive amount of smegma built up around the foreskin. He started retching.

_________________________________________

“I got some names, Stollar,” Cale said through his earpiece as he sat in his spaceship.

“Gaines didn’t give you any problems?”

“No, he did, but I got him to talk.”

Stollar exhaled. “Is he dead?”

Cale flicked his eyes over to Gaines, who was sitting on a stool in front of a metal table, still handcuffed and shaking.

“Mortified.”

“Uhhhhhhh—”

“Do not ask.”

“Kaaaaaaaaaaay? Well, send me the list of names and I’ll start uncovering more info on them.”

“He only gave me three. He doesn’t know the other two; one’s obviously the Baron, whom he said he’s never seen in person. The other one is the Chemist. All he could tell me is that he’s some cronok and he has some lab in Demyl Swamp.”

Stollar groaned over the earpiece. Cale could mentally see the alien rolling his eyes. “ _That_ swamp? You’re better off walking into a lindworm’s maw. It’s less toxic and smells better.”

“Yeah, well it’s not like whatever’s down there can deteriorate my body even further.”

“You’d be surprised.” Stollar sighed. “So what are the other three names?” 

“Milz Dillvor is the Assassin, Kolson Arcornoc is the Mule, and Gobor Grizzer is the Terrorist.”

“Ohhhh, fucking _shit_! Why is the terror—ffffuuuuuuuck!”

Cale raised an eyebrow. “Problem?”

“Please tell me that last name is incorrect. Do not tell me that the Terrorist is Gobor fucking Grizzer!”

Cale looked at Gaines and snorted. “Your information on Gobor Grizzer is accurate, yes?”

Gaines nodded. “Yes.”

“If you’re lying—”

“I almost had cock cheese shoved in my mouth! I’m not lying to you!”

Stollar mumbled. “…Cock cheese?”

Stammering, Cale stood up and moved away from Gaines. “That’s—those details are irrelevant. Point is, Gaines’ information is solid. I’m assuming you’re aware of Grizzer.”

“Do you remember hearing about some serial rapist from Tero who escaped from prison and allegedly went to another planet and was never seen again?”

Cale paused. “…Wait a second, was he a pit bull? Some burly dog who had it out against felines and thought all canines—”

“Yes, _that’s_ Grizzer.”

“Fuck’s sake,” Cale said, rubbing his face with a heavy paw. “And he’s just _one_ of the five.”

“All honesty? I’d deal with him first. Don’t know what the Cartel’s doing, but if Grizzer is involved—”

“—then he’s probably leading…Jesus. Just…find out more on the others first. Might be best if I wait on Grizzer depending on what the others are up to.”

“If you say so.”

“I’ll see you in a few hours.”

“All right.”

Cale shut off his earpiece and removed it, while Gaines looked over at the lion and huffed. “So you see now…you understand why I couldn’t tell you.”

“Why the hell is Gobor Grizzer involved in this Cartel? What the fuck are they planning?!”

Gaines shook his head. “I don’t ask questions I don’t need answers to. I do what I’m told. I get paid. I go home.”

Cale was about to say something when he started coughing deeply. The lion leaned against one of the walls in the lunchroom and grasped his knees as he continued to cough. When he finally stopped, the lion retreated to his bedroom so he could grab his bottle containing the dark blue fluids once again. He quickly stepped back into the lunchroom to make sure Gaines didn’t move before taking a long sip from his bottle. Exhaling, Cale brought his bottle down and panted, his heart feeling more relaxed.

“Can I give you some advice?” Gaines asked.

“ _Can_ you?”

Gaines scowled at the lion before clearing his throat. “Take me back. Walk away. Cartel don’t know about you; you don’t know about the Cartel.”

“All of the leaders are wanted fugitives in different sectors of the galaxy. All I need to know is that my contractor is paying me and my associate an incredibly sizeable amount of cash for dismantling this organization and bringing in the five heads. So that’s what I intend on doing.”

“You’ll die trying.”

“I’ll be fine.”

“No, you won’t. You think I’m daft just because I left my car doors unlocked?” Gaines lifted his chin, gesturing the best he could towards Cale’s bottle. “That stuff you drinkin’? I know what it is, and I know what it’s for.”

Neither anthro said anything for a moment. Cale glared at the polar bear, trying to think of a proper retort. But he ended up just clutching his bottle and guzzling down more of the slimy blue fluids.

“You can’t destroy the Cartel.”

“Ain’t the first one I’ve went up against. Won’t be the last.”

“That’s the point; there’s more criminal organizations out there! Some are city wide; some are worldwide; some are fuckin’ universal wide! You’re not stopping anything; you’re stomping on baby cockroaches and giving their mother enough time to pop out more eggs!”

Cale shrugged. “Least I can sleep well knowing I stopped _some_ bugs.”

“Those ‘cockroaches’ are gonna outlive you and you know it! What’s the point of it all anyways? Why do you care about the money so much? Are you _that_ desperate to get yourself killed?”

Cale slammed his bottle onto a table. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but you are willingly working with a criminal organization. One of its members is a serial rapist who broke out of prison. That automatically means you’re part of a group that conspires to rape, murder, and kidnap at its _bare minimum_. You know what they do. You know they ruin lives, take ‘em away, cause wanton destruction. But you don’t care. You choose to remain oblivious, because it’s easier for you. Because they pamper you with money. So do not sit there and lecture me about how I live _my_ life when your life consists of making money by ensuring thousands, if not millions of innocents have to suffer for it.”

Gaines didn’t say anything for a while. Both of them listened to the ship’s engine rumbling as it continued to soar through space, while Cale grunted when he felt a sharp pain in his abdomen and hoped that all the food he ate in the Neon Pole wasn’t reacting too negatively. Gaines slowly lowered his head onto the table, resting his jaw down on the metal structure.

“Where are you taking me?” he asked softly.

“Schrader’s Space Station. You’re gonna stay there until the IGPA transfers you to another facility.”

“…Fine. May as well get some sleep until we get there.”

Cale looked at the polar bear as he slowly started to shut his eyes. He knew there was no way the bear could escape; they were thousands of miles away from Drorix, and the ship was automatically designed to fly to the space station and could only be adjusted by Cale himself. Nevertheless, he stared at Gaines until he finally started to snore. Cale took a deep breath as he looked at the amount of fluids left in his bottle and walked back into his bedroom. He bent down and stuffed the bottle back into his cabinet, where he paused for a moment so he could look at the same photo of himself and Keevonu once again. Cale scowled as he looked at the photo for a moment before he slammed the cabinet shut. The lion stood straight up before he heard his abdomen grumbling, like sludge flowing very swiftly through a set of pipes. Swearing and grunting, Cale opened up his bathroom door and stomped inside.


	4. The Meeting

The arctic fox blinked as he turned and looked to his right, where he saw the shirtless brown-furred goat sitting down and drinking an oversized cup of coffee. When the vulpine looked around at the other three seats near the table, he exhaled.

“Of course _you_ arrive first…and on time,” Baron said.

Kolson shrugged. “You know how busy everyone else is.”

“So are you. And yet somehow you _always_ show up first.”

Kolson took a long sip of his coffee. “At the cost of neglecting slumber.”

Baron sniffed as he rubbed his muzzle for a moment, feeling around his whiskers and scratching near his nose. He kept looking at Kolson to make sure he didn’t pass out before taking out an electronic tablet and examining some of the records one of his employees recently sent to him. Almost five minutes went by before the double doors leading into the Baron’s office opened up, and Baron looked up to see a familiar rabbit walking into the office checking some of the messages on her phone. After she finished texting someone, she slid the phone into her pocket and looked up at Kolson and Baron.

“Sorry, Baron. Got held up in traffic,” Milz said, before taking her seat across from Kolson.

“Uh-huh. ‘Traffic,’ she says,” Kolson answered with a smirk.

“At least I have a personal life,” Milz retorted with a smirk of her own.

Baron didn’t say anything. He just stared at the tall rabbit clad in her torn jeans and dark blue shirt that showed off part of her stomach. The fox blinked before he resumed checking the messages on his tablet. Without looking up, he blinked and asked Milz, “I don’t suppose you’ve seen Dr. Oblingor or Gobor on your way up here?”

“Don’t care. Would be better if we have this meeting without ‘em, to be honest.”

“Yeah, Boss! Why don’t you just tell us what’s up and we’ll relay the information to them? Save us a lot of trouble, and you wouldn’t have to worry about those ‘outbursts’ you’re getting sick of,” Kolson added.

“Dr. Oblingor and Gobor are valuable assets to me, just as you two are. Like it or not, all four of you need to hear what I have to tell you. Or have you forgotten what poor communication can do to a business?”

Milz rolled her eyes. “Okay, all right. But don’t blame me if I end up cutting open Gobor’s brachial arteries.”

“And don’t get mad at me if I decide to shovel a grenade into Dr. Oblingor’s fetid mouth,” Kolson added.

Baron stared at his two employees and said nothing. The goat and rabbit looked at his emotionless blue eyes and decided to be quiet. All three of them continued to wait until they heard the double doors creaking open and saw a reptilian muzzle reveal itself. Moments later, Vogar stepped into the office, wearing another unbuttoned white lab coat over a green plaid shirt. As always, he failed to tuck his shirt in properly, so everyone could see part of his immense stomach as he walked into the room on his short legs. Vogar cleared his throat and exhaled as he headed over to the chair beside Kolson.

“So glad that you decided to wait for my arrival,” the cronok hissed.

“Of course we waited, _Vogar_. We’re aware of how important you are to this organization,” Kolson said dryly.

Vogar frowned. “Evidently you’re not. Have I not reminded you all how important titles are?”

“Yes, you have,” Milz chimed in.

“Then why does the _Capra_ here refuse to acknowledge my profession?”

“Because pissing you off entertains me,” Kolson said with a wide grin.

Baron leaned back in his chair and exhaled as he rubbed his forehead. “Dr. Oblingor, we do not have time to sit here and listen to you lecture us about your title. Please just take your seat.”

“Evidently, you do. Do you all know what my college instructors did when the students refused to remember proper instructions? He would repeatedly—and excessively—remind everyone—”

“Sit your ass down.”

Baron didn’t scream or shout. He just raised his voice high enough and firmly enough to intimidate the cronok. He quickly took his seat beside Kolson and stopped talking, fully aware of what Baron could do to him if he didn’t comply with his wishes. The three anthros and alien sat in silence for a prolonged moment, waiting for the tardy Gobor to show up sooner than later. As the creatures all waited, Vogar turned and looked at Kolson, watching as the goat drank the rest of the coffee from his cup and sighed. Vogar leaned forward slightly and flared his nostrils twice, which did not go unnoticed. Kolson looked over at the cronok and nudged him in his maw.

“Hey, back up.”

Vogar blinked. “All that coffee…strong sweaty odor…you haven’t been sleeping much, have you?”

“Baron, would you like to inform Dr. Oblingor that my work input has been ‘severely impaired’ due to my lack of sleep?” Kolson asked.

Baron nodded. “Despite all the pressure Kolson has been under, Dr. Oblingor, sales have gone up by fifteen million dollars compared to last month. I suggest you don’t judge Kolson’s methods, as he doesn’t judge yours.”

“Of course he doesn’t. My work is _flawless_ , after all.”

Kolson paused and flared his nostrils. “But I am apprehensive, dear Kolson. About your employees. Especially after your associate, Polly, paid me a visit.”

“Did you get your nerve agents?”

“Yes.”

“And I’m assuming Polly insulted you before leaving. Was it your odor, your breath, or your obesity this time?”

“All three, actually. I was truly mortified by that ursine’s choice of words.”

“What for? I’m sure what she told you was accurate.”

Kolson turned and glared at Vogar with another wide grin again, while Kolson simply snorted and looked at Baron.

“Baron, are you aware that Kolson here let one of his employees go recently? A tortoise named Franz?”

The goat frowned as he kept glaring at the cronok. “How the fuck do you know that?”

“Remember, Kolson: I’m smarter than you,” Vogar replied, with a nasty smile.

Baron looked up at Kolson and blinked. “Do you trust Franz, Kolson?”

“Absolutely! He never botched any of his runs and he always did what I told him without question!”

“Do you think he’ll expose our identities if he’s caught by the IGPA?”

“He’ll cut his arteries open ‘fore he talks.”

The fox stared at Kolson and shrugged. “I see no problem here then, Dr. Oblingor.”

The cronok licked his teeth. “Maybe not now, but sure enough, one of his em—”

The scientist stopped talking once the double doors burst open, the noise loud enough to startle Milz and distract Baron from checking all of the data on his tablet. The four creatures all looked at the double doors and saw that they had been kicked open. A giant blue-nose pit bull wearing red jeans and a long, open red vest that showed off his white underbelly and burly abs walked into the office, slamming the doors just as hard as he opened them.

“Why hello bitches! Hope y’all didn’t start the party without me!” Gobor said in his boisterous voice.

“Of course not. Can’t have a party without a megaphone,” Milz said dryly.

The giant gray-furred pit bull rushed over to the chair beside Milz and grunted as he sat down, causing the chair to creak. Without asking or wondering if it was permitted, Gobor scooted his chair backwards and sighed as he put his giant footpaws on the table. Baron stared at the burly footpaws and grumbled to himself.

“Gobor. We discussed this last meeting.”

“Huh? Oh, oh, the foot thing! Oh, it’s cool, don’t worry ‘bout it! They’re clean this time!”

Gobor looked at Vogar, who was sitting across from him, and grinned. “Hey, Doc! Give ‘em a whiff for me! Show Baron that them shits don’t stank!”

Vogar flared his nostrils and blinked. “I don’t need to; I can smell them very well from here.”

Gobor chuckled and left his footpaws on the table anyway. Then he turned to his right and saw Milz texting on her phone again. While she was in the middle of composing a message, Gobor roughly punched her in the left shoulder, causing her to shout.

“Hey, bitch! Who you textin’, eh? Tryin’ to set up a new date fer me?”

“Yes. With a dentist. It’s bad enough we have to hear your infuriating voice. I would like to talk to you without smelling a garbage truck or rotten potatoes whenever you open your damn mouth.”

Gobor laughed joyously before he licked his teeth and glared at Vogar. “Hey, Doc! D’ya hear that? Bitch sayin’ you need to go to the dentist and clean out your nasty-ass mouth!”

Vogar and Milz glared at him simultaneously. Milz slid her phone back into her pants and exhaled.

“And I distinctly remember telling you ‘kindly’ to stop calling me a bitch,” Milz added.

“Why the fuck should I? S’what you are!”

Vogar looked at the two individuals arguing and decided to chime in. “To be fair, Gobor, Milz is correct. She is clearly a leporid. The only person you can accurately call a ‘bitch’ is your own mother.”

Kolson chuckled after hearing the scientist’s comeback, while Gobor just blinked and sniffed. “Well, my mom’s dead. Ain’t no fun callin’ a dead person a bitch!”

Gobor exhaled, looking down at Milz. “But since I’m so fuckin’ kind and chivalrous, I’ll respect your wishes, _cunt_! I’ll no longer call you a bitch, _cunt_. Fair?”

Without showing an ounce of emotion, Milz slowly removed a long knife from her trousers and set it down in the center of the table. Then she looked up at Gobor with an innocent smile on her face and blinked.

“Fair.”

Gobor frequently flicked his eyes between the knife Milz set down and the rabbit herself. She was still smilingly sweetly at him, not even attempting to reach for the knife. Gobor on the other hand felt nervous, and kept wondering when or if the rabbit would lunge for the weapon and cut his throat open. Kolson and Vogar looked at the weapon as well, while Baron shut his eyes and exhaled with indignation.

“If I wanted the four of you to fight for my amusement, I would’ve sent all of you to the Gladiator Detention Facility. Are we going to conduct business here, or have I sadly misplaced my trust in you four?”

Everyone looked at Baron silently as the fox lowered his paw and stopped mulling. Milz placed her paws on the table, but left the knife in place.

“Okay, Baron. What’s this about?”

“Yeah, fuck’s so important? Better be a good fuckin’ reason why you ruinin’ all my free time I could be spending shoving my cock up another cat’s fat ass,” Gobor snarled.

Baron shrugged. “Same as always. Another client came to me offering a deal. And I need to make sure all the cogs are aligned properly so this machine doesn’t break down.”

“And what fuckin’ deal is this exactly?” Gobor asked.

“Commander Maynard visited me not too long ago. He wants us to ‘purge’ a colony that’s apparently an enemy to the Apis Empire. Now, according to him, hundreds of millions of souls are residing in this colony, so I’m assuming that he probably wants us to wipe out a moon, at best.”

“That’s overkill,” Kolson said, with wide eyes.

Baron nodded. “Of course. But it is what the commander wants.”

“What do we get out of this?”

“Same as always. Money. Another ally with powerful friends who can aid us. Another guardian angel of sorts to protect us should the authorities scrutinize us. Rather simple job, from what I surmised. Milz, you’re in charge of taking out some of the commanding officials within the IGPA who oversee spaceships exporting supplies. Once they’re all disposed of, I will have some officials on my payroll replace them, so we can transport our weapons through space without being searched by the patrols. Dr. Oblingor, you and your scientists will have to use whatever pathogens you have on hand and convert it into a highly destructive chemical weapon, specifically one designed to kill insectoid aliens. Gobor, you’ll unleash a prototype of the weapon in your city somewhere—where you set it off matters little to me, so long as casualties are high and you can confirm that it’s lethal enough to do the job. And Kolson, you’ll be in charge of delivering all of the weapons evenly between your distributors and supervising the transports.”

“Mm…sounds like you made all the decisions for us, Baron,” Milz stated.

“I’m detecting reluctance in your voice,” Vogar said, before hissing.

“Why wouldn’t I be reluctant? Look, blowing up a bridge, starting a gang war, assassinating some politician, like that bull I put down over a week ago—that’s all fine and dandy. It’s a walk in the park for us. But working for Commander Maynard? Helping him with his genocide or extermination or whatever the hell it is that he’s doing? Fuck that. It’s too risky, and you know for a fact that meddling with the Apis Empire will draw the wrong kind of attention to us.”

Kolson exhaled as he leaned back in his chair. “Hold on, if you’ve already made your decision, Baron, then why are we having this meeting?”

“Because there are alternatives. And I would like to hear what you four think we should do. Is Commander Maynard an asset or a liability?”

“Liability,” everyone answered, with no hesitation.

Baron blinked as he set his paws down on the table. “You all replied with much haste.”

“Baron, I ain’t ever like the fucker anyway. Everytime I saw that wasp, he always fuckin’ spit on my floor and shit. Always goin’ on about how I’m a ‘disgrace’ in my profession, that I don’t know how to lead my fuckin’ troops properly. Wouldn’t cry no tears if the twat got his head lopped off,” Gobor responded.

“I already said my piece about Maynard, Baron. He’s going to drag us down and you know it,” Milz answered.

“I know I just ship weapons and drugs around, but no, Baron. We’re not dealing with someone like Commander Maynard— _especially_ when it comes to exterminating the inhabitants of an entire moon!” Kolson said.

Vogar rubbed his chin for a moment before he blinked and offered his reply as well. “Everyone has offered valid opinions, most certainly. And while I do not agree with _any_ of them, what I can understand is that Commander Maynard is a predator with a bottomless stomach. He is always hungry, Baron, always finding new flesh to feast on. And right now he’s chewing on us. Once he’s had his fill, we’ll be nothing but waste to him, a pile of excrement that must be disposed of posthaste.”

Baron narrowed his eyes as he stared at the cronok. “This is one of the few times you’ve disagreed with me.”

“Because I know what our new client is. Now, if I was smarter than you all—which, heh, I am—I would only work with you four until I got what I needed from you all. Once I’ve drained all the blood from your veins, I’d dispose of you too. Because once you’ve gained enough power, you cease to find any purpose in dealing with beings beneath you.”

Baron leaned forward and grinned. “And that’s why you still work _for_ me, Dr. Oblingor.”

Everyone in the room could tell what the doctor was hinting at. The cronok shyly moved backwards in his seat, coughing and placing his hands on the table as he tried to maintain his composure.

“Y-yes, yes, of course, Baron. Was merely speaking hypotheticals.”

Milz looked at Vogar’s hands and noticed he was slyly moving them closer to the knife she put down a few minutes ago. Before anyone else could react, Milz grabbed the knife and immediately stabbed at Vogar’s left hand, narrowly missing two of his fingers. Vogar yelped and drew his hand back, while the rabbit glared at him and winked.

“Well now. Suppose it’s been decided then. All of us will have to kill Commander Maynard,” Baron concluded.

“You serious? You’ve no problem with doing this, Boss?” Kolson asked.

“Absolutely not. Maynard is a machine that produces more waste than energy, and he requires so much fuel that the rest of us are slowly running out of fuel for ourselves. I’ve no issue with breaking another machine so the rest of us have more resources we can put to better use.”

Gobor finally took his footpaws off the table and exhaled. “S’long as I’m breakin’ shit or blowin’ shit up! But what about that whole ‘deal’ you made with Maynard? Fuck we doin’ there?”

“That still goes as planned. We develop the chemical weapons and hand ‘em over to Maynard,” Baron answered.

“But, Baron, hundreds of millions—”

“Kolson. There are trillions of souls in this galaxy. _Trillions_. And there are many more in galaxies beyond ours. A few hundred million souls, and insectoid aliens at that?” The fox shrugged. “Merely a small speck in this universe. Just a small pile of fecal matter that _will_ be disposed of.”

“But they’ll connect the chemical attacks to us!” Kolson protested.

Baron shook his head. “Not true. You see, now that you four have given me your opinions, I also figured out how to take care of Maynard; I came up with a backup plan before this meeting. We’ll develop the weapons. We’ll deliver them to him. But we’ll produce extra, way too many for Maynard to deploy. The extra canister of the bioweapon will be equipped on a few associates loyal to us, terrorists who wouldn’t mind joining Maynard in his crusade. Once they infiltrate his inner circle and assist him in deploying the bioweapon, they’ll set off a series of their own pathogen right in front of Maynard. That giant wasp and all of his top generals will be annihilated, just like the very same colonists he’s trying to eradicate.”

Vogar scratched his jaw for a moment before a long strand of drool began to run down his mouth. “That is just outstanding, Baron. Anyone who finds out about the attacks will merely assume that some renegades who opposed Maynard got to him. We’ll be completely clear of this!”

The fox nodded. “Precisely. We’ll be a few billion dollars richer, we’ll have a liability erased, and business will continue as usual.”

Milz huffed and folded her arms. “I’m still not comfortable knowing that we’re sending millions of innocents to die. …But hey. S’your call, Baron.”

“Meh. Shit don’t bother me! ‘Sides, I get to have _lots_ of fun testing some of that pathogen out for myself!” Gobor shouted.

“It’s been a while since I’ve made a bioweapon…and I have _plenty_ of subjects to use for experimentation if need be. I approve of your plans, Baron,” Vogar said.

Kolson sniffed and rubbed his forehead. “Just make sure this shit doesn’t backfire on us, Baron. There are so many ways all this shit could go wrong.”

“I have faith in all of you. And I know for a fact that _none_ of you will disappoint me.”

“Course not. We all know what happens if we do,” Milz said.

Baron nodded. “You may leave now. I’ll send all of you further details over the next few hours.”

Milz took her knife from the table and slid it back into her trousers. Then she, Gobor, and Vogar all nodded and stood up from their seats, heading for the exit. Kolson, however, remained seated, still eager to discuss other business with the fox. Baron looked down at his tablet again and blinked.

“You’re still here,” Baron said, sounding bored.

“Boss…that thing, um, with Franz—”

“You should have consulted me before making that decision. If Franz turns out to be a police informant for the IGPA, we’re all screwed, including you.”

“I’m telling you, Baron, I trust him. He was a loyal soldier; he still is, even now. He just…he got tired, boss.”

“I wonder if he’ll get tired when the police start drowning him in a barrel of hot oil in order to extract a confession.”

The goat rubbed one of his horns and snorted. “You’re going to kill him, aren’t you?”

Baron put his tablet down and looked at Kolson. “Of course not, Kolson. I know how much you value the lives of your employees. I also know that the universe is filled with trillions of flies. There’s nothing I can do about that. All I can do is let them be. I’ve nothing to gain by spending valuable resources to try and exterminate every single fly that I see—especially when I have much more paramount agendas to worry about.”

The fox’s maw slowly turned into a nasty grin. “Now…if a fly were to wander into my house or my office? You best believe that I’m going to grab my swatter. This is a big universe, Kolson. You better hope that the fly you released into the wilderness doesn’t accidentally find its way to my open window.”

There was nothing else that needed to be said. Kolson kept staring at the white fox’s eerie grin before he inevitably scooted his chair backwards, stood up, and headed for the door. Baron watched as the goat exited his office and softly closed the door. Then he resumed gazing at his tablet, organizing his schedule for the next few weeks to come.


	5. The Investigation

“Well. This is surprising,” Cale said to himself.

The chubby lion blinked as he stood in the middle of the city with his paws in his pockets. As he looked up in the sky, he saw an assortment of UAVs and helicopters fluttering around in the air, patrolling the area. A modern plane slowly sailed through the clouds thousands of feet off the ground, the giant vehicle looking like a small blip to the feline. Cale stopped looking up and observed his surroundings on the ground instead. Everyone walking around in the city was mostly an anthro or some kind of alien that Cale couldn’t identify; he didn’t see any humans anywhere. All the buildings around him were well-kept compared to the previous city he was just in, and the city looked much more vibrant. The sun was shining, everyone walking around on foot looked healthy and properly dressed, and a majority of the vehicles being driven around were operating on electricity or solar energy. There was still smog and other bits of pollution, mostly from the factories on the outskirts of the city. The only uncanny element that Cale detected was the anthros who had cybernetic implants—all of which were visibly easy to see. At one point Cale spotted a crocodile with scales that looked like broken platelets, and his eyes shined as though they were red lasers.

“What is? You found the target already?” Stollar asked over the earpiece.

“No. Everything seems…advanced in this city. I’ve already spotted seven—no, _nine_ anthros with more cybernetic limbs than me.”

“Yeah, well, something tells me they aren’t incontinent like you are.”

“ _Fuck off_. I’m still waiting on the pills,” the lion snarled.

After snarling at the alien over the earpiece, Cale started walking down the city streets, making sure to seem inconspicuous so he wouldn’t alert his target. He brushed past a few other anthros wandering around the sidewalk; some of them genuinely excused themselves while others paid Cale no attention. The lion walked around for a good five minutes before he flared his nostrils and smelled food coming from one of the traveling food trucks parked just outside of a financial building. Several businessmen and women were on their lunch break ordering their food and waiting in line; Cale joined them all, and stood still up until he arrived at the counter and saw a brown crocodile with tattoos all over his arms sticking his head out the service window.

“Whatchu wan’ mate?” he asked in a raspy voice.

“Just a frankfurter. Plain.”

The crocodile chuckled. “Ain’t even wan’ no chili slick on it?”

“I’m fine, thanks.”

“Whatev’ ya says!”

Cale waited for another minute before the reptile presented him with his meal, and he paid the vendor before walking away and munching on his snack.

“Found anything yet?” Stollar asked.

“Sodium. Unnecessary calories.” Cale stopped chewing and stuck two fingers in his mouth. He pulled out what seemed to be a strand of hair. “Hair from a horse’s tail.”

“You eating potato chips out the dumpster?”

“Hot dog from a vendor.”

“Ah.”

Cale resumed eating his meal anyways. “Go ahead and give me all the specifics on the target.”

“Uhhh, well, couldn’t find her on any police records. Even the Intergalactic Police Association doesn’t have a file on her.”

“What about the Tero Police Organization? She’s bound to have done something on that planet.”

“Nope, nothing.”

“Not even LynKaster Police Department?”

“LynKaster isn’t, err…noted for frequently updating their police records. Lotta times the records won’t change until _after_ a crime is solved.”

Cale exhaled. “So all the crimes the target committed are still open.”

“Basically.”

Cale paused so he could bite off a third of his hot dog. He grunted as he swallowed some of the bread and pork before speaking again. “All right, forget about her criminal records, if she’s got any. Friends? Family? Leisure activities?”

“Only child. Thirty-two. Parents still alive. Recently graduated from LynKaster Technical College…mm, no roommates, no boyfriend or girlfriend, no spouse.”

“No leverage. Damn it,” Cale snarled.

“Did you _plan_ on torturing this rabbit’s loved ones just to get to her?”

“Well, her parents aren’t dead yet.”

“Cale!”

“Joking,” he lied. Cale finished eating his hot dog and tossed the thin piece of paper he was holding it in into a nearby trash bin. “Gimme a moment.”

“All right.”

Leaning against a stone building, Cale took out his cell phone and brought up the city’s local news. He skimmed across several articles posted on the LNN website, most of which were going on about the weather, various gang violence or kidnappings in the area, and a few common murders that had been solved in under twenty-four hours. It wasn’t until Cale spotted a news story concerning a bull who had recently been assassinated that he paused. He squinted as he read the article, which gave details about an unknown hitman or hitwoman who had killed a politician over a week ago. The lion sniffed as he rubbed his nose and started looking for similar stories in surrounding areas. About a month ago, a drug dealer working with the Rottili Family had been murdered mysteriously in a dark alley, and not even a week afterwards, a capo within the family died in a bizarre explosion that took place on his yacht. Half a year ago, four witnesses who were going to trial in regards to exposing key members of the Quintuple Cartel were all assassinated within two hours of each other, long before anyone could warn the witnesses that they were in danger.

“Hmph. Think I found some of Milz’s handiwork. Lotta unsolved assassinations in the past couple years; many of the victims were related to the Cartel somehow.”

“So where to now?”

“Gonna follow up a lead on the latest victim: Boris Trovmar. Seems like he worked in the governor’s office downtown.”

“No offense, Cale, but you can’t just stroll into a highly protected building owned by the Drorix government association—”

________________________________________

 

“—and ask about confidential information regarding a deceased member of this office,” snarled the head of security.

Cale blinked as he sat in the barren holding room, with two security guards clad in green shirts and black pants standing near the room’s only locked door. Cale stared at the head of security, a thin, but tall and authoritative elk in a brown suit, and rubbed his muzzle.

“You saw my credentials. Everything I’ve told you checks out,” Cale said calmly.

The elk snorted so hard Cale actually saw wet mucus fly out his nostrils. “Oh yeah, I saw your credentials.” The head of security slapped his left arm, and Cale flicked his eyes back over to his tattoo.

“This has nothing to do with the Cephalopodan Strikers, I assure you. You’re an elk anyway; why do you care?”

“Because I know what anthros like _you_ are capable of.”

Cale turned and looked at the two guards in their uniform as they stood near the door. Then he turned back around and looked at the tall elk. He gazed at his hefty horns before looking at his suit and the firearm strapped to his waist. Then Cale set his paws on the metal table in front of him and blinked.

“Then you’d better release me.”

The elk raised his eyebrow. “You threatening a government agent?”

“I am reinforcing a fact that you already know.”

Cale blinked again and slowly took his paws off the table. He kept staring at the elk, tempted to see if he would break or not. He didn’t see a hint of reluctance in the lanky elk, but neither of them wanted to cause any trouble they didn’t need. So the elk snorted heavily again and gestured at one of the guards. One of them unlocked the door, while the other handed Cale his plasma pistol back and lifted him out of the chair.

“Questioning government officials doesn’t warrant immediate arrest. But I suggest you don’t do it again.”

Cale nodded. “Of course.”

The lion turned around and walked outside of the holding room, and one of the guards promptly slammed the door shut. Exhaling, Cale reached up and turned his earpiece back on as he stood within the spacious corridors of city hall. Cale looked at all the sharply-dressed anthros walking past him before he sat on a nearby bench and huffed.

“Told ya so,” Stollar said.

“I’m aware. Your condescension motivates me.”

“So whatcha gonna do now?”

Cale took out his phone again and started looking up Boris Trovmar’s name in the news. Several articles only talked about his assassination, but the lion was surprised when he found a couple stories about Trovmar being declared not guilty after being the center of a few embezzlement and sexual harassment charges.

“Look up Hauser Remington.”

“Who’s that?”

“Trovmar’s lawyer.”

_____________________________________

Hauser Remington sighed heavily as he walked up the stairs, his face drenched in sweat and his paws greasy from all the hard work he did today. The gray mouse’s eyes were red from lack of sleep, and his suit was unkempt and had a few sweat stains on it. Tired and ready to get some sleep, the mouse dug into his pockets and unlocked the front door of his apartment. He lazily tossed his briefcase on the floor before taking off his jacket and setting it on a nearby coatrack. Then the mouse grunted as he walked into his bathroom, turned on the light, and started shuffling with his pants. He sat down on his toilet with his pants around his ankles and sighed with relief as he started to pass gas. Seconds later, Hauser heard someone pull open his shower curtains, and a chubby lion lying in the bathtub sat up and pointed his gun at him.

“Hi,” said Cale.

Hauser shrieked and nearly jumped off the toilet. Panting, the mouse looked at the bathroom door, and realized he closed and locked it. He looked back over at the lion and huffed.

“Are you _really_ gonna try to run away right now?”

Neither of the anthros said a word. Then Cale heard a faint splash, and Hauser exhaled and lowered his head self-consciously.

“No,” he murmured.

“Thought so.” Cale rubbed his nose as he kept his gun aimed at the mouse. “Now let’s talk.”

Hauser scoffed and shook his head. “Couldn’t you have just sat at my kitchen table or hid in my bedroom closet? Why’d you do this in the bathroom for crying out loud?!”

“Everyone has to use the toilet _eventually_. And I didn’t want to risk you ruining your pants.”

Hauser grunted with effort and heard two more splashes. Then he looked down at his expensive dress pants and felt a bit of relief. The mouse rubbed his nose and looked at the lion.

“Fine, fine, we’ll talk…not like I’m gonna be doin’ anything else.”

“Your client, Trovmar.”

“If you’re trying to get to him through me, too late. Someone beat you to it.”

“I know. I’m trying to locate the killer.”

“Tch! Good luck. My client wasn’t exactly the nicest of anthros. Why else would he hire me?”

“News stories said he was involved in embezzlement. Care to explain?”

Hauser shook his head. “Trovmar was involved in a lot of shit.” The mouse stopped when he realized what he just said, and then looked over at Cale and saw him smirking. “Shut up; you know what I mean. Apparently he had a knack for screwing over low-level organizations, y’know, those small-time weasels trying to get some recognition by partnering with someone in the government. Trovmar would come across small companies and seal a partnership with them, provided he gets fifty percent of the costs.”

“What did the companies get in return?”

“Nothing! Trovmar would just take the money and run! Everytime someone tried to sue him, he’d start an investigation with the same company he partnered with and conjure up some bullshit scandal to sink their stocks. Some of the companies couldn’t afford the money to fight back, so they either backed off or went bankrupt. The last company Trovmar fucked over, Eccentric Electronics? CEO killed himself. All their stores are gradually closing down and the employees are being laid off.”

Cale sniffed. “And he was declared not guilty in court?”

Hauser smirked. “Hey. I’m a damn good lawyer.”

Cale growled gutturally, and the mouse squeaked as he dropped more excrement into the toilet bowl.

“You knew _all_ of this and haven’t reported it to the police?”

“Lookit what ended up happening to my client! Obviously he pissed off the wrong people; whatcha think’s gonna happen to me if I come clean with what I know? I mean hell, you’re not even _trying_ to kill me and you have the nerve to ambush me while I’m on the toilet!”

“Hmm. Was the CEO connected to the Quintuple Cartel?”

Hauser sighed. “No, but…he was married. Conveniently, after the CEO killed himself, his wife goes missing. Suddenly my client ends up dead. I dunno about you, but grief can make someone irrational.”

“Hiring someone to murder the corrupt anthro who screwed over my husband’s company and made him kill himself sounds _very_ rational to me.”

“Tomato, to-mah-to.”

Cale grunted as he stood up and got out of the bathtub. The mouse exhaled as he looked to his right at the toilet paper holder and frowned.

“Hey, what’d you do with my toilet paper?” Hauser asked.

Cale bent down into the tub and pulled out a roll. “This?”

Hauser blinked. “That’s my last roll.”

“Yes.”

“…Please?”

Cale shook his head. “What can you tell me about Milz Dillvor?”

“I don’t know who that is.”

“Uh-huh. Sure.” Cale set the toilet paper down on the counter by the sink, just out of Hauser’s reach. The mouse even reached over and tried to grab it without getting up, and Cale moved it a mere four inches away from him. Hauser sighed.

“Okay…so, um, my client went down to the gym a lot.”

“Which gym?”

Hauser shrugged. “I dunno!”

Cale moved the toilet paper further away. 

“I DON’T! He just worked out every Saturday and Sunday; told me those were his ‘me-time’ days or whatever. But considering all the sex scandals he was involved in—”

“Did your client rape someone?”

“I didn’t ask! I was—I was only covering the embezzlement scandals; he had multiple lawyers. Someone else must’ve handled those cases!”

“But it is possible.”

Hauser huffed. “Sometimes he’d go on and on _and on_ about all the ‘big-bosomed’ and ‘titty-grabbing’ anthros he’d see in the gym. Maybe, uh…maybe something did happen.”

“Mm. Thanks.”

Hauser reached for the toilet paper again. Cale nonchalantly shoved it into the sink. Which he made sure to fill with water earlier. After Hauser heard the toilet paper splash, he whined noisily and looked up at the lion.

“The fuck?!” he squealed. “What the hell am I supposed to wipe myself with?!”

“Your paw.”

Cale turned around, unlocked the bathroom door, turned off the bathroom light, and walked outside as Hauser continued to whine. As the lion exited the mouse’s apartment, he activated his earpiece again and started walking down the steps of the apartment complex.

“Okay, got some info, Stollar. Trovmar was taking the profits from multiple companies and forcing them not to sue him when he didn’t deliver compensation. Apparently the CEO of Eccentric Electronics lost more than he intended and wound up killing himself.”

“How is that relevant to the Cartel?”

“Because the CEO was married. Shortly after he committed suicide, the widow went MIA. Shortly after she goes missing, Trovmar gets killed. That can’t be a coincidence.”

“Mm. So we should try to hunt down the widow.”

“Negative. If she was desperate enough to hire someone like Dillvor, she’s already left the planet. Fortunately, seems like Trovmar also liked to workout at the gym every weekend. And it also appears as if Trovmar was charged but not convicted of sexual harassment, possibly even rape.”

“Soooooooooo just to be clear, we’re trying to look for an assassin who murdered a degenerate scumbag.”

“This is the same assassin who allegedly murdered four witnesses who were going to testify against key members in the Cartel. One of ‘em was pregnant, Stollar.”

“Jesus…”

“Let’s not even talk about the assassinations we _don’t_ know about. Trust me; this planet’s gonna be safer once I snag this bitch.”

“All right, all right. Still though, why you heading to the gym? You don’t even know which one he attended. And I seriously doubt Trovmar and Dillvor worked out at the same gym.”

“That’s exactly what I think. If I were her, I’d figure out which gym Trovmar attended and create my own membership solely so I could spy on him and follow him around whenever he left. Think about it: if someone who’s been a member for weeks, maybe months, is exercising in the same gym as the victim, there’s less scrutiny. But if a random anthro shows up out of the blue, only works out for a day or two, then leaves the day after Trovmar is murdered, the police are gonna question witnesses and single you out. Chances are Dillvor still has the membership.”

“At this point, you’re basically gonna have to visit every different gym in the city until you find the right one. Wouldn’t it just be easier to go to Dillvor’s location and arrest her? I mean, her name’s listed in the database; it doesn’t seem to be fabricated.”

“Negative. One of three things will happen. Dillvor will be home, and she’ll deny everything at best and claim that I’m harassing her and find a way to get me arrested at worst. Or she won’t be home and I’ll have to resort to asking her neighbors where she is. Someone within the vicinity could be working for the Cartel too and will tip her off, meaning she’ll escape.”

“So what’s the third option?”

“Her home is under constant surveillance from the Cartel. Whether she’s home or not, the second I show up and start asking questions, I get a target on my back. There’s way too many possibilities and scenarios for this to go _wrong_ as opposed to it going right. You can’t go hunting for a shark if you can’t see underwater, even though you know the shark is there.”

“Suppose that makes sense.” Stollar sighed over the earpiece. “Guess we’re doing this the hard way.”

“Seems like it.”

______________________________________

Cale exhaled as he stood inside the gymnasium, having spent all day visiting various gyms trying to figure out which one either Trovmar or Milz attended. As Cale walked inside, he was surprised that there were anthros in the building despite the fact that it was nearly eleven o’clock. The chubby lion walked across the mat-covered floor, listening to some of the anthros inside grunting or panting as they punched giant heavy bags or jogged on a treadmill. He didn’t bother waiting or examining the anthros this time around; Cale went straight towards the front desk near the entrance and greeted the oversized elephant who was busy reading a magazine. The moment the elephant saw Cale, he lowered his reading material and smiled.

“Hello! Welcome to Howie’s 24-Hour Workouts! I’m assuming you’re here to buy a new membership?”

Cale shook his head. “Not entirely. Was eager to find out if Boris Trovmar used to work out at this gym. Do you know him?”

The elephant rolled his eyes. “Do I know him…that blowhard bovine almost got my tusks shoved up his ass.”

“I take it he didn’t fit in well.”

“Oh, no, no, he fit in perfectly. He fit in so well that he thought he should fit himself into some of the females’ panties. You catch my drift?”

Cale rubbed his muzzle. “If it makes you feel better, he was killed recently.”

“YES!” the elephant exclaimed, while making a fist with his right hand. “Um—AHEM! I mean…oh. Well. …Oh.”

“Yes. I’m torn up too. I’m curious…do you have another member in this gym called Milz Dillvor?”

“Well,” the elephant cleared his throat. “I could give out a complete list of the gym’s current members, but I’m not entirely sure that’s legal. Exactly who do you work for?”

“Myself.”

“And your profession is…?”

“Irrelevant.”

The elephant blinked. “I disagree. If your profession is serial killing, then my boss is gonna come up to me and say, ‘Monty, you gave up the members’ names just because some random anthro asked, and you didn’t think it was odd when he didn’t say he was a police officer.’ And then my ass is fired!”

Fidgeting, Cale widened his nostrils as he leaned forward and got closer to the pachyderm. “I assure you, I’ve no demons in my closet. I just need to find this anthro. Surely there must be something I can do to ease your apprehension.”

Monty grinned widely as he stared at the lion’s round face, glaring at his exposed chest and stomach. “Weeeeeeeeellllll…perhaps you could do a little… _something_ for me.”

_Shit_ , Cale thought.

__________________________________________________

Cale grunted as he took the large chunk of meat into his mouth. He sucked on it for a moment, letting the warmth of the flesh fill his maw as he sank his teeth into it gently. The lion mumbled with his mouth full as he looked over at the elephant who had an ecstatic smile on his face.

“Ohhhhhhhh yeah…oh yes… _damn_ this feels good!” Monty exclaimed.

Cale glared at the elephant, surprised that the pachyderm was in such a joyous mood. Then he looked down at the various boxes of fried chicken sitting on Monty’s living room table, and swallowed the flesh in his mouth. After finishing a chicken thigh, Cale reached down and grabbed a chicken breast fresh out the fryer and seasoned with various spices. When Cale turned to look at the elephant again, he was stuffing seven French fries into his mouth simultaneously and using his trunk to grab his cup of soda.

“You sure no one followed you?” Monty asked, spraying fry fragments from his mouth.

“All I did was buy fried chicken,” Cale said dully. “Why the hell would anyone be following me?”

Monty swallowed hard before he tilted his head back and poured some of the soda into his mouth. He set the cup down before belching deeply and looking at the lion.

“Dude, all the anthros at my gym got sticks up their asses! They saw me buying one cheeseburger—ONE!—and they threatened to kick me out! One time when I was jogging, I stopped near a pizza joint because the smell enticed me. The second I was about to walk inside, BOOM! Two members of the club show up jogging down the same street I was jogging down on the same day at the exactly same time! I swear they’re following me!”

Cale bit into his chicken breast and chewed for a moment, letting the savory juices fill his mouth. “Have you tried, y’know, not eating fast food?”

Monty laughed joyously as he picked up a chicken leg and started crunching on it. “That’s funny! You’re a funny feline, aint’cha?!”

Cale grumbled as he stared at the elephant, watching as he licked his fingers and stood up. He disappeared into his bedroom, where the lion heard Monty rummaging around with a few papers, before he came back into the living room holding a paper with a large list on it.

“Oh hey, yeah, got that list for ya. I got access to the network here so I can just dig up any member’s name I want from online.”

Cale skimmed the list and quickly found Milz’s name on it, albeit she went to a gym in a different location of the city. And as he predicted, Trovmar went to the exactly same gym. Cale quickly folded the list and put it in the pocket of his vest before he exhaled and looked down at the chicken inside of the box. He noticed the box itself seemed to have multiple grease stains on it.

“How much fat is in all this food?”

“Wouldn’t be surprised if we have a heart attack tomorrow!”

Cale looked at the chicken breast he took a few bites out of. And then he picked it back up and resumed eating it.

____________________________________________

The lion panted as he slowed down the treadmill, sweat running down his entire head, soaking his mane and parts of his white tank-top. Cale took a huge breath as the treadmill ceased to move, and stepped off the exercise machine so he could wipe some of the fluids from his face. He observed his surroundings, listening to dozens of anthros of all shapes and sizes working out so they could either stay in shape or lose some weight. To his left he saw a few mammalian anthros who were jogging on other treadmills, with one of them sprinting due to the machine being on its highest setting. To his right Cale could see various anthros lying on blue and purple mats spread across the floor, doing push-ups or sit-ups. Near the walls, Cale could see other anthros grunting as they gripped a bar and performed chin-ups. The lion took a huge breath and shut his eyes.

“You sure this will work, Cale? Kind of a shot in the dark here,” said Stollar over the earpiece.

“It’s early in the morning. I’ll stay here a few hours, take a break, come back. If I don’t see her today, she’ll be here tomorrow.”

“How do you know that?”

“Trovmar exercised every Saturday and Sunday, so Milz must’ve done the same to spy on him. Which means she’s gonna have a routine burned into her system.”

Exhaling, Cale walked over to a weight machine and sat down with his back turned, reaching up so he could grab a metal bar.

“Trust me; I know what I’m doing.”

The bounty hunter gripped the metal bar tightly as he began to exercise, grunting and gritting his teeth as he pulled the bar down repeatedly and lifted the weights up. After the lion used the weight machine for a few minutes, he walked over to another bench near the wall and lied down on it, sliding himself backwards until he was looking up at the barbell. Cale exhaled as he reached up and gripped the bar with weight plates on the ends of them.

___________________________________________

_And then he removed it from its holster and started to lift the barbell up and down. Cale grunted as he performed multiple bench presses, all while the snow leopard spotted him with his arms folded._

_“So you thought about my offer or not?”_

_Cale grunted as he lifted the barbell. “URGH! Nah. Can’t take the job, sorry.”_

_Keevonu nodded and wagged his tail. “Sure, course not. I mean, with our training, it really shouldn’t be no problem.”_

_“I’m not in the military no more. Got tired of all that shit.”_

_“This ain’t the military, mate. We scroll through a lists of wanted aliens, anthros, and whoever else, bag ‘em or kill ‘em, and get paid.”_

_“That sounds like mercenary work. Ain’t doin’ that shit neither.”_

_Keevonu shook his head. “It’s nothing like that. We’re not selling our souls to the highest bidder. We’re not gonna contribute to genocides. We may have to capture a genocidal warlord, but we won’t be gunning down children in the streets or some of that horrific shit mercs tend to do.”_

_Cale grunted as he set the barbell back in its regular position before he sat up and turned around so he could look at the snow leopard._

_“Look, it’s not that I find this occupation complicated. It’s just…I’m not trying to get wrapped back up in that life. You know about some of the shit that went down with the Strikers.”_

_Keevonu cleared his throat. “I ain’t never said I was proud of what we did. Never said I forgot any of it either.”_

_“Then you know why I don’t wanna do this.”_

_Keevonu exhaled. “True, but…Tomlik. The shit we’ve done? It’s still goin’ on. It’s still happening. There’s millions of people out there like us, all just soldiers following the orders of some corrupt or sadistic bastard who only cares about fueling their agenda or filling their wallets. We can either wither away in some dark alley and let these assholes continue to get away with what they’re doing…or maybe we can bring them to justice and at least try to fix what’s wrong with this galaxy. And hey, we’d get loads of money in the process. I fail to see how any of this can negatively impact your life.”_

_Cale stared at the snow leopard for a moment as he pondered his decisions. He scratched around his jawline for a moment before grumbling and thumping his tail against the bench._

_“So we’ll be freelancers?”_

_“Yep.”_

_“And we’ll just wander around the galaxy apprehending or killing anyone who appears as a bounty?”_

_“Uh-huh.”_

_Cale smirked as he stared at the snow leopard. Both felines were shirtless and only wearing a pair of loose-fitting shorts inside of the gym. As Cale stared at the snow leopard, he gazed at his underbelly and his toned chest and stomach. Then the lion looked at Keevonu’s shorts, imagining what he’d see beneath the dark blue dazzle polyester. Cale grunted as he tried not to reach down so he could grope his own crotch, but he could feel his penis swelling. The lion sniffed as he quickly erased the various perverted thoughts from his brain and looked up at Keevonu’s face. But now, the snow leopard was grinning too._

_“You see somethin’ down there, Tomlik?”_

_Cale shook his head before widening his nostrils. “No. Sure do smell something though.”_

_“Right, sorry.” Keevonu chuckled as he meekly scratched the back of his head. “Forgot to shower this morning.”_

_“S’fine,” Cale said, sniffing again. “Better’n being out in the desert wearing the same uniform for two weeks straight.”_

_Keevonu flicked his eyes to the left before he leaned against the barbell and looked down at Tomlik. “You know…if we were freelancers together, we could do whatever we want, whenever we wanted.”_

_“Really?”_

_“Oh yeah.”_

_Cale didn’t bother stopping himself now. He felt the erection coming on, but he didn’t bother trying to hide it. Between Keevonu’s sweaty, musky body and the thought of spending time with him in bed naked, the lion couldn’t control his hormones. Eventually, Cale stood up and chuckled as he extended his right paw._

_“Guess we’re partners then!”_

_Keevonu looked at the lion’s paw before flicking his eyes down at Cale’s semi-erect penis. He looked back up at Cale’s face as the lion winked at him. And then Keevonu shook his paw._

__________________________________________

“I got eyes on the target,” Cale whispered after sitting up on the bench.

Stollar coughed a few times into the earpiece, and Cale winced when he heard a plastic bag crinkling. “You sure it’s her? You thought you saw her yesterday and it ended up being a dead end.”

“Yes, I’m sure. It’s Sunday; she probably just had other engagements yesterday.”

Cale stood up and walked over to a nearby water fountain so he could refill the water bottle he brought with him. He looked to his right and saw Milz Dillvor talking to another rabbit around the same height as her.

“She’s got an accomplice. Might be a bodyguard.”

“Or it could just be a friend of hers. She’s trying to remain inconspicuous too.”

As Cale looked at Milz and her accomplice, he sat down on a nearby bench, exhaling and pretending to look tired. He took a long drink from his water bottle before leaning forward and talking quietly into the earpiece.

“Not taking any chances. Stand by; I’ll notify you when I have more info.”

“Roger.”

Shortly after Cale stopped talking into the earpiece, a short koala bear sat down on the bench beside Cale. He flicked his eyes at the sweaty bear in sweatpants before blinking and looking away.

“Damn, I wish they would crank up the A/C!” she exclaimed. “S’hot enough as it is outside.”

“Mm-hmm,” Cale murmured.

The koala bear turned and looked at Cale. “Oh…don’t think I’ve seen you here before. New member?”

“Indeed.”

“Oh, cool! I actually recently joined myself. Still getting used to keeping a routine.”

Cale rubbed sweat off his face. “That’s great.”

“Yeah, yeah, kinda used to work out at home, but kinda hard to stay fit when you’re surrounded by television and a cupboard of junk food, know what I mean? Just thought it’d be more beneficial if I—”

Cale slowly lifted his right footpaw off the floor and passed gas so noisily that at least ten anthros stopped exercising when they heard the crackling, sputtering din. The lion nonchalantly put his footpaw back down, while the koala bear just scoffed with disgust and walked away. A couple anthros who were exercising in front of Cale got up and moved, both of whom started complaining about the smell. Cale rubbed his nose and kept relaxing for a few more minutes, shortly before he stood up and moved closer to Milz and her companion. He listened to some of their conversations as he worked out using a leg press machine. As the minutes turned to hours, Cale continued to work out in a variety of different ways, ignoring most of the population in the gym—or, such as when someone complained that he was hogging one of the barbells as he did squats, nonchalantly passing more gas so he could keep everyone from bothering him. Eventually, Milz and her companion stopped for the day and headed outside.

“Target’s leaving. Following now,” Cale murmured. 

This was simple, as far as Cale was concerned. The second Milz separated herself from her accomplice, he’d grab her and secure her on his spaceship. Then he’d leave LynKaster City and get paid once she was taken to the proper authorities. So the lion slowly followed the two rabbits, walking through the various crowds of anthros—some with more cybernetic enhancements—and only jogging when Cale began to lose sight of the duo. Even when Cale spotted the two rabbits occasionally looking backwards, he didn’t seem worried over getting spotted considering how populated the streets were. When both of them stopped near a café, Cale leaned forward and squinted when he vaguely saw Milz talking to her accomplice and nodding. Still maintaining his cover, Cale bent down and pretended to drop his phone, swearing as he started scraping his fingers against the pavement. Just as Cale began to stand up, Milz started jogging to the east, zooming down the sidewalk opposite of the one Cale was currently standing on.

“The fuck?”

Cale grunted as he broke out into a jog, snorting heavily as he chased after Milz. She took a sharp left and disappeared into an alley, where Cale immediately heard several grunts and metallic clanging. When the lion peeked into the alley, he saw the rabbit jumping from fire escape staircases and climbing up storm drains in a matter of seconds. Then Milz grunted as she hurled herself through someone’s open window, disappearing from Cale’s vision. Cale stepped into the alleyway and looked at a nearby ladder, the fire escape stairs, and the dumpster he presumed Milz hopped off of. Then he looked up and noticed just how high Milz climbed.

“Fuck that,” Cale said, turning around and walking back to the café.

“What? You see one of them tentacle monsters giving a blowjob in the streets?” Stollar asked over the earpiece.

“Stollar, I must question why you immediately jumped to a perverted outcome.”

“Hey. I’ve seen some freaky shit in dark alleys.”

Cale ignored him. “Lost the target. Apparently Ms. Dillvor is incredibly acrobatic.”

“Shit…well, what now?”

“I’m engaging the accomplice. I’ll let you know when I find out more.”

Cale stopped talking to Stollar and walked into the café. He was immediately blasted with the fragrant scent of bread being baked and all sorts of expensive caffeinated beverages being brewed. It wasn’t hard to find the accomplice given she was the only rabbit in the building; she was wearing a gray T-shirt and yellow sweatpants and still looked quite sweaty. Cale walked over to one of the registers and waited in line, deciding to buy a regular fruity drink that had orange, pineapple, and coconut juice all mixed together. The lion sat down by himself at a table as he consumed some of his beverage while checking more messages on his cell phone. The moment Cale saw Milz’s accomplice stand up, he got up as well and walked towards her while holding his cup. He intentionally walked into her path, bumping into her so hard that the both of them ended up spilling their drinks onto the floor.

“Shit…I’m sorry,” Cale apologized.

“No, it’s-it’s all right,” the rabbit said, wiping some tea off her shirt. “Heh, was too busy looking at my phone.”

Cale quickly walked over to one of the tables and grabbed a paper towel dispenser. He and the other rabbit took out several sheets before they bent down and started wiping up their mess. The lion chuckled.

“Suppose I should be lucky this wasn’t coffee.”

“Oh my god—I spilled some of that shit on myself last week. Damn near gave myself second-degree burns,” the rabbit replied.

One of the café employees saw the spill and came rushing by with his set of paper towels. Cale held up a paw and shook his head.

“Oh it’s cool; we got it. Was our mess anyways, right?”

The employee walked away after hearing Cale’s reply, while Cale immediately picked up all the dirty napkins and tossed them into a nearby trash can. As Cale and the rabbit stood up, the rabbit wiggled her small nose and blinked.

“Hey…weren’t you at the gym this morning?”

Cale chuckled and wagged his tail. “Ya got me! Guess it’s a little hard to miss me, eh?”

The rabbit smiled when she looked down and noticed Cale’s gut was hanging over the waistband of his red shorts. “Eh, it’s fine. Kinda like it when anthros have some meat on their bones. Makes ‘em look all cute—like those stuffed animals you see at carnivals.”

Cale meekly scratched the back of his head as he grinned awkwardly. “W-well now…never thought ‘cute’ would be the first word that came to mind…”

“You blushing, Cale?” Stollar asked.

_Go fuck yourself_ , Cale thought, since he couldn’t take to the alien directly. The two anthros continued to look at each other for a moment when the rabbit folded her arms and smirked.

“Did you follow me and Milz?”

Cale stammered. “N-no! No! I was—I just really like the drinks here!”

The rabbit laughed. “Relax, man. I’m messing with you! There’s like six other members from the gym who always come here. Hell, I see Tyler and Marisa eating bagels back there.”

Cale nodded and nervously pushed his index fingers together. “R-right…right.”

“‘Sides, if you were stalking me or trying to grope me, you would’ve done it already. Kinda had to deal with that shit a couple weeks ago…don’t matter though; he’s gone now.”

“Good. Pretty sure that guy was an asshole anyway. Don’t deserve to work out with someone as nice as you!”

Cale laughed nervously again while the rabbit smiled and chuckled. “Haven’t seen you at the gym before today. What made you wanna join?”

“Um…” Cale looked down at his gut. And then looked back up at the rabbit. “Guess.”

“Oh sure, yeah, I got that. But what made you wanna join _this_ gym?”

“Oh…” Cale reached up and scratched the back of his head again, feeling self-conscious. “My boyfriend…my _ex_ -boyfriend.”

The rabbit winced. “Ouch.”

Cale sucked on his teeth. “Yup…I mean, uh, we said some shit…um…well, I used to work out at a different gym. But the one I used to attend was the same one my ex went to. And I’m pretty sure he still works out there…so—”

“You don’t wanna run into your former lover while you’re surrounded by a bunch of sweaty, hunky males who are releasing pheromones and do something neither of you wanna do.”

“Pretty much, yeah. Just better this way. What about you?”

“My friend coaxed me into joining. She was this upstanding athlete and I was the slow runner who was lucky enough to win bronze during a marathon. Meh…she just thinks I can do better with my life…well, no, I _can_ do better.”

“I hear ya.”

The rabbit rubbed her nose before extending a paw. “I’m Shannon.”

Cale looked down at the rabbit’s paw and smiled as he grabbed it and shook it. “Cale.”

After both of them shook their paws, Shannon felt something buzzing in her sweatpants. She took out her small cell phone and looked at the time before frowning.

“Shit! Sorry, I gotta go run an errand.”

Cale hardly had time to say goodbye before Shannon went straight for the door. Before she walked out of the café, she turned towards Cale and said, “Nice meeting you, Cale!”

Cale nodded and watched as Shannon disappeared onto the streets. Shortly afterwards, the lion went back in line and got another orange, pineapple and coconut beverage before sitting down at the same table.

“Might’ve found a way to Milz.”

“You gonna follow her?” Stollar asked.

“Negative,” Cale said, before consuming some of his beverage. “If she catches me again, then she’ll think I _am_ stalking her.”

“But you are stalking her.”

“Shut up, Stollar.”

_______________________________________

Shannon and Milz were standing inside of a theater waiting in line to see a new movie. Shannon was on her cell phone while Milz was sighing and tapping her right footpaw on the floor.

“Told you the line would be long,” Shannon murmured.

“It’s a bloody movie about anthros swinging laser swords at anthros. I don’t understand why _this_ many people are trying to see it.”

“Okay. Seriously. Say that sentence again and fathom _what_ you said, and you will understand.”

Milz rolled her eyes as the line moved forward a couple inches. “Hey, what happened at the café earlier? I noticed you had tea all over your shirt and pants when we were changing our clothes in the locker room.”

“Hmm? Oh shit, I never told you! I ran into this cute lion—literally!”

Milz smirked. “Did you blow him while I was gone?”

“Fuck you. He’s gay anyway; that ain’t happening. Apparently he’s a new member, just started yesterday.”

Milz paused. “Really?”

“Uh-huh. He seemed sweet, although kind of…awkward. Breath was real funky too, actually…eh. I didn’t mind much though.”

“He wasn’t stalking you, was he?”

“He wasn’t that Trovmar asshole; trust me.”

“Then why was he getting so chummy with you?”

“I mean…it’s not hard. He’s a socially inept fat lion with bad breath who recently broke up with his boyfriend. I think he was just lonely and looking for someone to talk to.”

Milz exhaled and nodded. “Yeah…prolly.” Milz suddenly jabbed Shannon with her elbow and smirked. “So gimme details. I know you said he’s gay, but hey.”

Shannon grinned. “He was _my_ type, Milz, not yours. Thick gut, thick arms, thick _ass_ —”

“You and your damn thickness.”

“Ooh! He had this cool tattoo on his left arm, just below the shoulder! It looked like some octopus head with a knife going through it.”

Milz paused again. “Did it now?”

Shannon nodded. “Maybe I’ll introduce you to him the next time we work out together.”

Milz smiled. “I’d like that.”

As the two rabbits got towards the front of the line and were about to buy their ticket, Milz pulled out her cell phone and grumbled.

“This lion give you a name?”

_______________________________________

Cale coughed and spat a few times into the toilet. Panting and moaning, the lion looked at the bile and half-digested food mixed in with the toilet water before he reached up and flushed the toilet. Sniffling and coughing, Cale wearily stood up and wandered over to the bathroom’s mirror. He looked at his tired eyes and the small bit of drool and vomit hanging from his bottom lip before he wiped it off. Then the lion turned on the sink’s faucet and rinsed his mouth out a few times before splashing water against his face.

“Just another week or two…just a couple more fuckin’ weeks,” Cale murmured.

The lion exhaled as he turned off the faucet and looked at his naked body in the mirror again. His appearance hadn’t changed since the last time he looked at himself, and he hadn’t lost any more teeth. From what he could see, none of his veins or arteries looked discolored or was bulging out against his skin. Cale grimaced as he looked at his chest, eager to see if anything with his heart had changed. Placing a paw against his chest, Cale checked to see if his heartbeat had increased or remained the same. When he noticed that there was no change, Cale closed his eyes and exhaled again, telling himself to stop worrying so much. So Cale opened up his bathroom door and walked out into his hotel room. 

And then he noticed that the front door was moving.

“The f—”

The fur on Cale’s nape immediately went up. He swiftly and silently closed the bathroom door before yanking off the toilet lid and shutting off the light. Panting, Cale crouched down as he stood near the shower, pressing his back against it so he wasn’t directly in front of the door. He looked down at the crack beneath the door and saw light coming in from his room; Cale was relieved that he bothered to leave his light on. And then Cale felt a draft, and remembered he was naked and left his weapons in his room. Swearing gently, Cale kept waiting, wondering if the intruders would come up to the bathroom. Squinting, Cale looked at the light seeping into the bathroom and saw it darken, the sign of someone walking near the door and casting a shadow. Raising the lid, Cale waited as he heard a few footsteps from his room, followed by soft murmuring. Part of him thought that he was just being paranoid; for all he knew, it could’ve been some employee coming to check on all the guests to ensure they weren’t stealing everything. But then Cale remembered that it was past midnight, and employees invading guests’ rooms with master keys would be an invasion of privacy.

Cale’s thoughts worsened once the light in his bedroom shut off. Eyes wide, Cale looked at the doorknob before hearing wood and metal crunching. Cale could feel wood fragments breaking away from the door, no doubt from someone shooting off the doorknob. Seconds later, the door swung open. Even with his impaired vision, Cale could see the silhouette of someone carrying a gun. Gritting his teeth, Cale swung the toilet lid, smashing it against the intruder’s face with a heavy thunk. The anthro howled in pain and staggered just as Cale quickly flipped the light back on. And then shouted when three more bullets were fired from a second intruder he didn’t initially see.

“SHIT!”

Cale kicked at the door, smacking it against the second intruder’s paw and making him drop his silenced pistol on the floor. Dashing for the weapon, Cale picked up the gun and fired, taking out the second intruder’s right kneecap before opening the door back up. The second intruder, a fuzzy and burly grizzly bear, snarled as he reached up and lashed at Cale’s right arm with his claws, tearing through the artificial skin and revealing small bits of the cybernetic components inside. The lion winced, but felt no pain. So he managed to shoot the bear in the face with no trouble at all, not even a second before the first intruder, a tall wolf with gray fur, started shooting at him. Cale instinctively threw himself over the bear’s body and rolled against the floor towards the bed. He stood up and aimed for the wolf, but the canine fired directly at the gun, blowing it apart. Swearing, Cale threw himself behind the bed and waited for the gunfire to stop. When he heard two faint clicks and the wolf swearing, he reached for the lamp on his nightstand and hurled it across the room.

The lamp smashed against the wolf’s face, causing him to scream as he dropped his gun. Panting and releasing his claws, Cale yowled as he sprinted towards the wolf, lashing at his chest and face so hard he drew blood. The wolf snarled as he ducked and punched Cale in his gut, before hitting him in his right kneecap, causing the lion to stagger. As Cale dropped down, the wolf kneed the feline in his jaw before taking out his knife. He shouted and hopped down onto Cale, gritting his teeth as he tried to stab Cale in the face. But the persistent lion grabbed the wolf’s right paw, holding back the knife using all the strength he could muster. Having an artificial right arm proved to be beneficial, as the wolf began to shout in pain as Cale gripped him so hard the bones in the wolf’s paw started to crack. Unable to cope with the pain, the wolf loosened his grip, and Cale quickly snatched the knife out the intruder’s paws with his left paw and stabbed the wolf in the right eye.

The wolf hollered in agony as he rolled off the lion, lying on the floor and writhing around in pain. Cale immediately got on top of him and started to strangle him. Between the head injury from the toilet lid, and the knife in his eye, the wolf had no more fight left in him. Cale snarled as he tightened his grip around the wolf’s throat, listening to him gasp and choke as he gradually crushed his windpipe. He kept his grip firm until the wolf stopped moving and took his paws away. And at the same time, the bear from earlier got back up and slammed Cale’s body into the wall. Cale looked up at the bear and could see that the bullet went through his mouth, tearing a hole through his cheek and shattering some of his teeth. The brawny bear bellowed as he punched Cale in the nose, spraying blood onto the floor and pinning the feline against the wall. Using one paw, the bear grabbed Cale’s throat and began to choke him. Using the other paw, the bear gripped Cale’s groin. The lion’s eyes nearly bulged out of his head when the bear grabbed him, all while he was smirking.

Cale instinctively reached over and clawed at the bear’s left arm, only to feel cybernetic enhancements beneath the fake flesh. Then he did the same for the right arm, only to see the same results. The bear leaned in close, chuckling evilly in Cale’s face. He also gave the lion a perfect target, as Cale wasted no time grabbing the bear’s face and digging his claws into his fur. Very slowly, Cale dragged his claws down, scraping at the bear’s face so hard that he tore through the flesh, and maimed one of the eyeballs. The bear finally let go, bellowing as he backed away, unable to cope with the pain. At the same time, Cale fell to his knees, coughing and holding his abused groin, praying that his testicles weren’t damaged. Gritting his teeth, Cale jerked the knife out the wolf’s eye and stomped towards the bear. But the bear lifted his left cybernetic arm as defense and allowed himself to get stabbed in his paw. Then he punched Cale in the mouth so hard that he felt one of his teeth loosening. The bear broke out into a frenzy, punching Cale over and over again before the aging lion had time to recover.

Some seconds later, the bear gripped Cale by his groin and throat, picked him up off the floor, and shouted as he hurled him into the bathroom. Cale shouted when his head banged against the porcelain toilet, and he immediately felt dizzy and was hoping he didn’t start bleeding. His face bleeding and bruised, the naked lion huffed as he looked at the bear. The wounds finally caught up to him, and the bear wheezed as he dropped to one knee and started to cough up blood. Fed up with the fight, Cale crawled against the floor and picked up the toilet lid again before wearily standing on his legs. The bear finally began to stand, moments before Cale smashed the toilet lid against the bear’s head, knocking him down. Cale shouted and howled as he smashed the toilet lid on the bear’s cranium so many times that the lid finally broke, the porcelain shattering into dozens of giant chunks. Cale exhaled as he tossed the broken lid aside and leaned against the wall, on the verge of passing out. Suddenly, the bear gurgled and moaned, and he started to stand up.

“For fuck’s sake,” Cale snarled with indignation.

The bear was moving slowly and could hardly stay on his footpaws. Not taking any chances, Cale walked over to his bed and crouched down so he could remove the plasma pistol that he hid beneath the mattress. After securing his weapon, Cale gripped the trigger, allowing it to charge quickly. The bear finally stood up, revealing his mangled head that was smothered in blood and had bits of porcelain embedded in the flesh. Cale fired and sent a giant ball of plasma energy towards the bear’s head, causing it to explode on impact. Cale didn’t even flinch as the head exploded into a goopy mess and the ursine collapsed to the floor. Snorting and blinking, Cale limped his way over to the wolf’s corpse and, just to be sure, shot him in the head to ensure he wouldn’t get up again either. With both assassins eliminated, Cale leaned against the wall before sliding down and sitting on the bloody floor. He had gotten sloppy. Maybe Milz spotted him. Maybe Shannon really was an accomplice working in the Cartel. He didn’t know. It wasn’t important. But he couldn’t spend any more time stalking his prey—not unless he wanted another contract killer sent to his hotel room.

Cale stood back up, gritting his teeth as he dragged his footpaws towards the bear. Afterwards, Cale groped his groin, gasping in pain over feeling how sensitive his groin and penis were. Being very gentle, Cale held his penis and pointed it at the bear. And then he started to urinate on the ursine’s corpse. Cale exhaled with much relief when he saw no blood in his urine.

“Still works.”


	6. The Assassin

The cops arrived eventually. Someone in one of the other hotel rooms heard the commotion and called 911. As soon as the police came in and saw the crime scene, they sealed off the area and started taking statements from Cale and any of the hotel guests who heard the commotion. Cale sat down on the bed as one of the paramedics looked at some of his wounds while members of the forensics team studied the corpses still on the floor. 

“Sooooo,” started one of the detectives, “these two assailants just snuck into your room and tried to kill you.”

“That’s the gist of it, officer,” Cale responded.

“Mm. How do we know that you didn’t—”

“Officer. You saw their weapons. A random vagrant would not have a suppressed firearm and a Microtech knife. They knew where, when, and how to ambush me.”

“Hmm. Well, we checked your credentials and it seems like everything checks out.”

“Exactly. So you know, with my profession, I’ve pissed off a lot of people, made many enemies.”

“Mm. Well, perhaps we should have some officers posted outside your room for the rest of the night. For your protection.”

“Officer, I killed these mercenaries after vomiting in the bathroom. While I was naked.”

“Mm. Yes.” The detective looked at the mess all over the floor. “Looks like you struggled.”

“I was _naked_.”

“Hey,” asked one of the forensics officers. “There’s a _large_ presence of urine on this corpse.”

Cale looked at the officer and sniffed. “He assaulted my groin. I wanted to ensure it still functioned properly.”

“So you pee—fine.”

Cale kept looking at the investigators and saw one of them remove a bag filled with adult diapers. He raised an eyebrow and looked at Cale.

“You can lower those or you can have your brain filled with vivid scatological images.”

The investigator lowered the diapers while the detective standing in front of Cale exhaled. “There anything else you’d like to tell me?”

“I’ve answered all your questions. I’m the victim here. I’ve admitted to killing these two mercenaries in self-defense. Right now I’d just like to go back to sleep.”

Cale sniffed as he took out his phone and looked at the time. It was nearly five in the morning now. Grumbling, he looked up at the detective and sighed. “You, um, mind if I take a phone call?”

“Just don’t leave the building yet. Or the hall for that matter.”

Cale nodded as he stood up and limped outside into the hallway where a couple of local police officers were standing outside making sure no one interfered with the crime scene. Cale walked away from the officers as he lifted his phone and kept looking at his messages. Then he slid his paw into his left pocket and placed an earpiece into his left ear before turning it on.

“Go ahead.”

Stollar grumbled as he started shifting around in his chair. “Mmf…yeah, still here…gimme a moment.”

“You fall asleep in your chair again?”

“Shush.” Stollar exhaled. “So…haven’t found anything based on the photos you sent me. No recognizable tattoos or marks on their bodies. Didn’t help that you blew their heads off; can’t really identify headless corpses.”

“Understandable. Was worth a shot I suppose.”

“Should also let you know…um, apparently a couple people were assassinated yesterday. Two supervisors within the IGPA who maintain the trading routes around Drorix.”

“Shit. Must’ve been where Milz went when she split up from the café.”

“Clearly. And since she knows you’re on to her, she may leave town soon—if she hasn’t already.”

“That’s okay. Figured this might happen; we can put my leverage card in play now.”

“How?”

“I got some trackers. The cops aren’t leaving my room anytime soon; I may as well head back to my spaceship when the cops allow me to leave the building. Once I procure the trackers, I’ll head back into the city and lure out Dillvor, plant a tracker on her to ensure she doesn’t slip away this time.”

“Whatcha gonna do to lure out the target?”

Cale reached into one of the pockets of his black vest and took out a crumpled up sheet of paper. He looked at it and could see the same list of names he received from Monty just a few days prior. After scanning the list, Cale found the name he was looking for.

“Look up the address for Shannon Guleen.”

“Shannon? Isn’t that the rabbit you were talking to the other day? Why does—”

“Just do it.”

_______________________________________________

Milz exhaled as she walked up to the rabbit’s door and knocked on it three times. She looked down at her loose-fitting dark green pants that nearly touched the floor before looking at her black shirt that only went down to her chest and showed off her smooth stomach and belly-button. The gray rabbit exhaled and wiped some dirt from between her big ears before leaning forward, thinking she’d hear Shannon inside. When she heard nothing, Milz pounded her fist on the door and rolled her eyes. She folded her arms and waited patiently before hearing Shannon shout out “It’s open!” from within the apartment. Milz shook her head and chuckled as she opened up the unlocked front door and walked inside.

“Shannon, I’ve told you: you can’t keep leaving your front door unlocked girl! What would happen if—”

Milz turned and walked into the kitchen. Shannon was sitting at the far end near the wall, her mouth covered with duct tape and her paws tied together with rope.

“Oh my god, Shannon!”

Milz, instinctively, ran towards the table in front of Shannon and took off the tape. She didn’t realize until the very second she grabbed the tape that something was off. Cale walked over towards the table and pointed his gun at both rabbits, having concealed himself near the fridge so Milz wouldn’t immediately spot him. Once Milz turned and faced the lion, she backed away from the table and held up her paws.

“We have money. You can just take—”

“Shut up,” Cale barked, before sticking his paws into his pockets and pulling out a pair of handcuffs.

“What-what the hell are you doing? Who are you? The fuck you doing with my friend?” Milz asked.

Shannon exhaled. “Remember Cale from yesterday? That cute lion I told you about?”

Milz sized up Cale, studying his chubby belly, his thick limbs, the cuts on his face and arms, and his sweaty white tank-top and red dazzle polyester shorts. The rabbit leaned forward and sniffed Cale before scowling and looking at Shannon.

“ _This_ is the ‘cute’ lion?”

“I said he was _my_ type.”

“Shut up,” Cale barked again, before tossing his handcuffs at Milz’s face. “Put those on.”

Milz scoffed as she smirked at Cale. “And why would I do that?”

“Just do it. I don’t have time for this. My groin is still in agonizing pain, I’ve yet to repair my damaged limb, I’m cranky, I’m tired, and my bowels have not been functioning properly today. So do what I say, or I’ll just kill both of you and be done with it.”

“We haven’t done anything, Cale. We go to the movies together, we hang out at the café together, we exercise at the gym; we’re not criminals! You’re the one who knocked on my door saying you wanted to work out with me before you barged in and tied me up!” Shannon exclaimed.

“Bait. S’what always draws out the target. Money, females, males, trophies, weapons—don’t matter. You all always come for the bait.”

“Shannon isn’t bait. She’s a fuckin’ anthro. She’s my friend,” Milz snarled.

“Explain to your friend that you’re an assassin who’s murdered dozens of people, some innocent, some not.”

Shannon scoffed. “That’s-that’s ridiculous. The only thing Milz is guilty of is showing off in front of me when we jog together.”

“Oh? Funny how Boris Trovmar ended up dead, huh? Was he not the same bull who sexually harassed you?”

Shannon paused. “…So what if he did? Asshole got what he deserved from what I read about him.”

“Milz, inform your ‘friend’ about the four witnesses you killed who wanted to testify against the Quintuple Cartel. Or the two Intergalactic Police Association officers who were murdered _yesterday_. Better yet, tell your ‘friend’ how you sent two contract killers to murder me while I was naked in my hotel room.”

Shannon scoffed and began to relax. “This is fuckin’ stupid! Cale, I know you’re probably going through a rough time, but you’re not thinking clearly! We’re just two rabbits who are trying to stay fit—”

Cale shot Shannon in her right shoulder. Just as the rabbit began to scream, Cale rushed over to her and shoved the tape back over her mouth, muffling her screams. Milz gasped and was about to attack Cale when the lion pointed the gun back at her.

“Cuffs. On. I’m taking you in.”

“You son of a bitch,” Milz said, gritting her teeth. “Shannon has nothing to do with this!”

Cale was losing his patience. He reached down and pressed his thumb against Shannon’s wound, causing the rabbit to holler in agony as he started to dig into the fleshy wound, drawing out some of the blood. Milz looked at Shannon’s eyes and could see that tears were forming. Not taking any chances, Cale snatched Shannon’s left ear, releasing his claws and grazing near the scalp, drawing blood as he started to stretch the ear out.

“Thing about you rabbits? Got very long ears. Easy to damage. Now if I cut around the more fragile areas, I _can_ rip this ear off. It won’t be clean. It won’t be painless. It won’t be quick.”

Cale gestured towards the handcuffs on the floor and blinked. “Put. Them. On.”

Milz scowled as she looked at Cale. And then she looked back down at Shannon’s face and could see that she was still crying and moaning, mumbling with the tape still covering her mouth. She very easily could’ve attempted to disarm Cale. But it was quicker to shoot someone in the head than it was to dash across the room and kick a weapon from someone’s paws. Milz slowly bent down as she picked up the handcuffs, the metal rings clinking as she raised them and locked one cuff around her right wrist.

“Behind your back. Not the front,” Cale growled.

Milz sighed as she slowly put her paws behind her back, grunting as she put the other cuff around her left wrist. Cale looked down at Shannon and growled as he observed her bleeding shoulder.

“Blame your ‘friend’ for this, not me.”

Shannon blurted out something in a muffled voice, which Cale assumed to be “fuck you.” Then Cale smashed his plasma pistol against Shannon’s head, knocking her out of the chair. She fell on the floor, unconscious and still tied up. Before Milz could say anything or react, Cale stomped over to her and grabbed her from behind, forcing her to walk towards the front door. Both of them walked out into the apartment complex’s corridor, where Cale exhaled and started heading for the stairwell. Milz chuckled.

“Well, Shannon was right about your breath—I’ll say that much.”

“I should remind you that I have not placed tape over _your_ mouth because witnesses will ask questions.”

“I’m handcuffed. You got a gun on me. You really think this will work?”

As they walked down the stairs, a couple carrying groceries walked up the same set of steps, making sure to move out of Cale and Milz’s paths. Cale made sure to slyly hide the pistol in his pocket as he kept a firm grip on the rabbit’s right shoulder.

“It’s working so far.”

The duo arrived at the bottom of the stairs, where Cale paused for a moment so he could set his gun into his pocket and take out a syringe. He quickly lowered the back of Milz’s black shirt with a yellow butterfly on the front of it and pressed the syringe just below the rabbit’s nape. Milz yelped in pain as the needle was thrust into her flesh, the tip of it inserted against her spinal cord. Milz heard a sharp click and hiss, and her eyes widened.

“Oh _shit_.”

“Mm-hmm. See, if you were some ‘ordinary’ civilian, you wouldn’t recognize that sound. So don’t you dare think about running.”

Milz huffed. “What…where? Where am I gonna run to? What am I gonna do…oh god. You don’t understand; the-the Cartel…they forced me,” Milz whimpered.

Cale exhaled and rolled his eyes as he heard Milz whimpering and lowering her head. She started to sob gently as her ears went down.

“Stop crying. You can give your testimony in court; I don’t care.”

“No,” Milz said, sniffling. “You don’t…you don’t under—”

Cale should’ve seen it coming. She was lowering her head far too much and crouching down slightly. The moment Cale tried to grab Milz from behind, she jerked her head backwards, ramming it into Cale’s muzzle. It was already sore from what happened last night; Milz’s head-butt only made his nose bleed again, and Cale could feel one of his teeth dislodging itself from his rotting gums. The lion didn’t even have time to shout before Milz lifted her right leg backwards and drove her footpaw into his stomach. Cale bent over and passed gas, hoping the impact didn’t loosen his bowels. Before he could process what Milz was doing, she twirled her body around, spinning and kicking Cale across the jaw and drawing more blood. Cale grunted as he hit the wall and snarled as he pointed the gun at Milz. Swearing, Milz turned and shoved the front door open with her body just as Cale fired. The rabbit screamed and stumbled, feeling a burning sensation just above her calf, before she whimpered and got back to her footpaws.

“Fuckin’ bitch,” Cale snarled, spitting out his loose tooth as he headed for the exit.

The lion was greeted with sunshine and the sound of cars speeding down the street and honking their horns. When he turned to his left, he saw Milz limping her way down the road, shoving her body against any civilians who blocked her path.

“Hey! HEY! STOP THAT RABBIT!”

Cale didn’t care if anyone saw his weapon. He didn’t care if anyone called the police. He just wanted to arrest Milz Dillvor—or kill her, which was beginning to become the more likely option. He didn’t have any time to waste. There were way too many variables that could lead to this spiraling out of control. Some trigger-happy police officer could see his gun and shoot him. Milz could get away. Someone within the Cartel could be spying on them and had instructions to eliminate both of them just to keep either of them from talking. So Cale broke out into a fast sprint, moving as swiftly as his sore and battered body would allow. He shoved everyone who was in his path out the way or knocked them down onto the ground, caring very little about the insults or swear words they shouted at him. Despite the city streets being busy this time of day, it was relatively easy to track Milz; she was the only rabbit limping and wearing handcuffs. Cale watched as she crossed the street, panting and sidling her way around any anthros blocking her path. Snarling, Cale sprinted into the middle of the street, ignoring that the light now read “DON’T WALK.”

“STOP RIGHT NOW OR—”

_THUMP._

Cale grunted as he flailed around and landed on the ground, now feeling a sharp pain in his hips. The driver of the solar-powered SUV honked their horn and shouted something at Cale as he lied in the middle of the street, while the lion just grimaced and rested on the pavement, struggling to stand back up.

“Cale? Cale?! The hell’s going on?! I’m hearing lots of honking out there; the target’s still moving!” Stollar shouted through the earpiece.

“Mmf…where she goin’?” Cale asked, as he wearily picked up his plasma pistol and stood up.

“She just turned into an alley…oh good, you’re in luck. It’s a dead end!”

Cale stood up and glared at the gray SUV that bumped into his left hip. Gritting his teeth, he pointed his pistol at the vehicle’s front tires and shot at both of them, watching as the plasma popped the tires and made some of the rubber burn and emit steam. The driver promptly left his vehicle and ran away screaming, while Cale crossed the street, now limping and panting as he jogged.

“Continuing pursuit,” he huffed.

It didn’t take Cale long to reach the alley Milz disappeared into; she didn’t get far at all. However, when the lion found Milz, he noticed that she was grunting and sitting on the ground, having shifted her arms around so that her paws were in front of her instead of behind her back. Before Cale could shout for Milz to freeze, she leaped towards a nearby storm drain and started to climb up. Frustrated, Cale limped over into the same building the storm drain was connected into and started to jog up the stairs as fast as he could.

“Target’s ascending. She’s heading to the rooftop,” Stollar informed Cale.

Cale snorted, hot breath flowing from his maw. “I’m aware. I’m gonna cut her off…at the top.”

The lion kept jogging as much as he could, sweat glistening around his face and getting into his mane. Eventually, Cale had to stop for a moment so he could grasp his chest and cough for several seconds. He shook his head and took a huge breath before resuming his chase and praying that Dr. Goode would have the pills he needed once he captured Milz. The bounty hunter finally got to the roof, and he shouted as he kicked the door open and saw Milz immediately. She was standing on the adjacent building, having walked across the gap between both buildings using a long and sturdy wooden plank. Cale found a short burst of energy and began to jog after her, forcing his mind to ignore all the pain he was feeling in his chest, hip, legs, and footpaws. Before Cale could step on the board, Milz bent over and grabbed the board with both paws. She slid it backwards just far enough so one end of it was hanging in mid-air. Gravity took care of the rest, and Cale stopped when the board tipped over and plummeted onto the ground.

“You mothe—”

Cale looked back up and saw Milz wink at him before turning around and limping again. Furious, Cale lifted his plasma pistol, on the verge of shooting Milz in the back and killing her right then and there. He was just about to do so when he realized that his aim was still intact, even if his cardio wasn’t. Shutting one eye, Cale lowered his pistol a few inches and fired two times. One of the bullets hit Milz in her left footpaw, and the rabbit screamed as she collapsed and fell on her face. Cale, meanwhile, looked at the gap between both buildings and exhaled. He could’ve easily went down the stairs and sprinted up the stairs of the building nearby, but he wasn’t taking any chances now, and he didn’t want to risk straining his deteriorating body to the point of complete shutdown chasing after Milz if she recovered from her wounds. So Cale walked back towards the door leading to the rooftop and took a few deep breaths. He crouched down and placed his paws on the floor, acting like he was about to get ready to sprint for a marathon. And then Cale let out a quick breath as he sprinted as hard as he could. When Cale reached the edge, he leaped forward.

And realized while he was in mid-air that he didn’t jump far enough.

“OH FU—AAH! SHIT! _SHIT_!”

Cale landed stomach-first onto the other building’s edge, and his body quickly slid backwards, moments away from falling onto the ground. Cale panicked as he held onto the edge, his tail wagging frantically as he thrashed his legs about and passed gas repeatedly. Cale grunted as the pain in his lower stomach reached its limit; he gritted his teeth as he felt his entire body sweating, to the point where some of the fluids started running down his legs.

“CALE! What the hell’s going on?!”

“I’m hanging off the edge of a building!”

“Wh—how did that happen?!”

“DOES IT REALLY FUCKING MATTER?!”

Cale would’ve reached up and shut off his earpiece, but he needed both paws to pull himself up. The lion scraped his footpaws against the brick wall, his claws noisily scratching against the exterior. Huffing, Cale strained himself as he slowly began to reach forward, feeling around for anything to use to pull himself up; he ultimately found nothing. The lion pretended that he was doing some kind of pull-up and gradually started to haul his body upwards and over the ledge. The lion could see that Milz was still struggling to stand up; her left footpaw’s sole had a huge burn wound on it. Swearing and passing more wet flatulence, Cale’s arms shook as he kept hauling his body upwards and over the ledge. When his upper half was above the concrete ledge, Cale shouted and threw the rest of his body forward, landing on the rooftop with a hefty grunt. Panting and sweating, Cale lied still on the floor, letting his body relax as his heartbeat slowed down. When he recovered, Cale stood back up and limped over to Milz, who had tried to stand up and run four times and kept falling back down. The lion limped his way towards Milz.

And immediately smashed his gun across her face. After the rabbit fell back onto the floor, Cale bent down and smashed her face against the floor twice, listening to the rabbit shout as her nose broke and one of her teeth cracked. Then the lion rolled the rabbit over and promptly punched her in the face six times, not stopping until he saw one of her teeth dribbling out of her mouth along with a steady stream of blood. Standing back up, Cale lifted his right footpaw and kicked Milz in the groin as hard as he could. Milz shouted and coughed twice, seconds before Cale kicked her in the groin two more times. The rabbit squealed and rolled over slightly, her entire head feeling like it was swelling as various parts of her body grew numb. Exhausted, Cale lifted his arm and huffed as he pushed a few buttons on his FCD. Once he lowered it, the lion swallowed and sniffed the air.

“The fuck…?”

Cale smelled the air again, noticing that something very foul was nearby. Curious, he reached backwards and groped the seat of his shorts, and frowned when he noticed it was wet. Then he worryingly lifted his left leg and looked at the back of it. Earlier, when Cale leaped from the rooftop, he thought it was sweat running down his legs. But now he could see—and smell—that he made a huge mistake by not putting on a diaper this morning.

“FUCK!” Cale howled, before bashing Milz across the face and knocking her out before she discovered what he did.

“Err…Cale?”

Cale huffed. “Target acquired, Stollar. I repeat, the target’s acquired. I used my FCD to send my ship over to my current location. And the roof we’re on is large enough for my spaceship to hover above; I can just throw the target onboard and climb in. I’m flying straight out of this city before the police arrive.”

“Is that so? I say this is a job well done then!”

Exhaling, the lion shook his head. “That’s a negative. We’ve endured a casualty during this endeavor.”

“Shit. Who was it? A cop? Some kid on the street?”

Cale sucked on his teeth and pinched the bridge of his nose.

“My pride.”

___________________________________________

Cale tossed the carrot onto the table. Milz looked down at the orange carrot with the green stem sticking out of it before blinking and looking back up at Cale with a scowl on her face.

“Are you fuckin’ kidding me?”

“You can eat it or I can pull down your pants and shove it up your ass. Pick one.”

Milz, even with her bloodied face, managed to smirk. “Maybe I should shove it up your ass so it’ll plug up your anus. Wouldn’t want you having another _accident_.”

Cale snarled as he looked at the rabbit and unsheathed his claws. Milz calmly picked up the carrot, her paws still handcuffed, and took a bite out of it. She was beginning to swallow part of the vegetable when she rolled her tongue around her mouth and grimaced.

“Damn it…you knocked my tooth out.”

“So did you. We’re even.”

“I didn’t break your nose.”

“You gave me a nose bleed; we’re even. And don’t talk about your groin either. That bear you sent to kill me almost crushed my testicles with his bare paw. So, again, we’re even. Now eat your damn carrot.”

Milz blinked as she glared at the lion and bit into her carrot again, making sure to chew on the left side of her mouth where all of her teeth were still intact. As the rabbit consumed the vegetable, she reached up and rubbed her nose a couple of times.

“I want my phone call.”

“No.”

“I’m your prisoner. I’m assuming when I step off this ship, my life’s over. So give me my phone call.”

“No. You give me information first, then I give you what you want.”

Milz scoffed. “Why should I trust you?”

“Because I didn’t murder Shannon when I had a perfect opportunity to. Which is good, because tomorrow she gets to find out that her best friend kills people for a living.”

The rabbit put down her carrot and sighed. “You’ve got what you wanted. You’ve beaten me. I’m not asking you to take off my cuffs, I’m not trying to bribe you, and I’m not threatening to have you killed if you don’t release me. I just need to call someone for a few minutes. Then I’ll tell you whatever you want. You have my permission to scalp me if it turns out I’m lying.”

Unsurprisingly, the thought of torturing Milz even further piqued Cale’s interests. He walked into his bedroom for a moment and sifted through some of his communication devices, pulling out a large, flat cell phone. After acquiring the device, he walked back into the lunchroom and tossed the phone down onto the table that Milz was sitting at. Arms folded, Cale stood by the table while Milz slowly reached forward and grasped the phone.

“Not giving me an FCD?”

“No.”

“This thing can reach signals on other planets?”

“Some phones can tell how high your blood sugar is by analyzing a stool sample.”

Milz didn’t respond to that statement. She just stared at the lion before turning on the phone and dialing someone’s phone number. After she punched in the number, she winced as she lifted the phone up to her right ear and waited for someone to answer.

“Hi, Mom,” Milz said softly. “Um, is Dad there? …Oh, that’s fine; just get him when he comes home. So, um…I’m gonna get straight to the point. I have a bank account—a second one. Account number’s 4-5-6-9-7-7-7-2-8-1-4-9. There’s gonna be a shitload of money in there I had…no, I’m not in prostitution, Mom,” Milz said, sounding offended. “I’m just…it’s worse than that.”

Cale stared at Milz as he heard muffled garbling on the other end of the phone. Clearly the rabbit’s mother was yelling at her or asking the wrong questions. Milz’s eyes began to water, and the rabbit let out a long breath before flaring her nostrils.

“Yes…I’m in trouble again, Mom. You and Dad can’t help me this time, I…I know, Mom. I just…”

Cale kept staring at the rabbit, completely emotionless as Milz sobbed and hot tears began to run down her face. Milz slowly set down her phone, and Cale could hear Milz’s mother shouting so much that he could nearly make out her words. Milz looked away from the phone and sobbed again, her face contorting as more tears ran down her face. Eventually, she mustered enough courage to lift the phone again and resumed talking to her mother.

“I don’t care what you think of me anymore, Mom. You need—shut up! Just…shut up and listen to me, _please_.” Milz sniffled and sighed. “You take the money from my account. All of it. Do you hear me? When Dad comes home, both of you get off the planet. I need—no, not the city. The _planet_. Go, um, go to that resort on um…Pokklam. …No, Mom, not Pokitaru; that doesn’t exist. Pokklam. Just…I need you two to leave. Okay?”

Milz suddenly paused and closed her eyes. “…N-no…no, Mom…I don’t think you’ll see me for a while. …Take care of yourself, okay? …I love you.”

Milz sluggishly removed the phone from her head and ended the call, seconds before she set the phone back down on the table. She remained silent as she opened her eyes, not caring that she was still shedding tears in front of the lion.

“Thank you,” she whispered.

“Whatever.” Cale snatched the phone and put it back in his pocket. “So, first thing’s first: what was your objective?”

Milz sniffled and wiped her nose, her handcuffs clinking softly. “I, um, I was tasked with eliminating five members of the IGPA who were in charge of analyzing shipments being imported and exported from different planets. Once they were all killed, members of the IGPA who were all in the Cartel’s pockets would replace them and look the other way as we transported some of our weapons off planets.”

“That’s it? You had to kill some police officers so no one would notice you were smuggling a few bombs and assault rifles between planets?”

“You don’t understand. We’re not just smuggling weapons. The Cartel’s been tasked with creating a series of chemical agents designed to slaughter the population of an entire moon.”

Cale’s eyes widened. “You’re shitting me.”

Milz shook her head. “My job was to kill five members of the IGPA, but just one or two would be enough.”

“And you _did_ eliminate two.”

“That’s right…I imagine that fat pig Vogar is already in the final stages of completing the weapon. Once he’s finished, he’s gonna hand it over to Gobor so he can test it out in the public. After that, Kolson is going to have all his smugglers ship different canisters of the pathogen off the planet to the target destination.”

“You do understand that what you’re involved in will potentially lead to the deaths of hundreds of millions, maybe even billions?”

Milz blinked. “I tried talking Baron out of it. But he…he just sees numbers. Hundreds of trillions is bigger than hundreds of millions. Apparently the people on this moon are just a ‘speck’ in the universe. No one will notice if they’re purged.”

“Fucking _Christ_ ,” Cale said, scratching the back of his head as he began to pace left and right and started breathing heavily. “Specify. What’s the estimated completion of this pathogen?”

Milz shrugged. “Our client doesn’t care _what_ we make. He just wants something that can gas entire colonies and cities. Vogar already has a shitload of chemicals in his lab; all he’s doing is just mixing the right chemicals together and testing to see if it’ll kill insectoid aliens. As soon as that’s done, he’s gonna duplicate the pathogen and ship one canister off to Gobor, while the rest goes to Kolson and his crew.”

“Where’s Kolson?”

“Dunno. He’s always movin’ around; sometimes he’ll hop from planet to planet in a matter of hours, depending on what ship he’s riding in.”

Cale huffed. “Okay, so…Assassin, Chemist, Terrorist, Mule, Baron. Clearly you’re the Assassin.”

“No shit.”

“The Chemist, I don’t have a name on him yet. You mentioned someone named Vogar?”

“Doctor Vogar Oblingor. Slobby, fat cronok who thinks he’s better than everyone else. That asshole would talk condescendingly to his own reflection if he had the chance to.”

“I’m guessing Gobor Grizzer is the Terrorist.”

Milz huffed and rolled her eyes. “Gobor does a lot of things. He kills, he rapes, he likes blowing shit up, likes showing how ‘dominant’ he is. Fuckin’ dogs always thinkin’ with their cocks.”

“And Kolson Arcornoc is the Mule.”

“He’s a goat actually. But sure, yeah. He handles all the smuggling operations. Prolly the only member of this organization I genuinely like.”

Cale snorted. “Who’s the Baron?”

“Dunno.”

The lion took out a knife and stabbed the table, leaning forward and snorting near Milz. She looked straight at him and shrugged.

“Dunno. He’s a white fox with blue eyes. Likes to dress nice. The only time I see him is when the five leaders are having a meeting together. We all call him Baron, but given your pseudonym for him is exactly the same, I’m sure it’s fake.”

“And I presume you don’t—”

“Baron and Kolson are always on the move. In the time it takes to transport me to whatever prison facility I’m heading to, Baron or Kolson will have already changed locations.”

“God _damn_ it,” Cale snarled, rubbing his head and shutting his eyes. “Fuck it. Where’s the Chemist?”

“Demyl Swamp.”

“I know he’s in the swamps. Specify.”

“There aren’t many laboratories in a swamp. He should be easy to find.”

Cale scoffed. “Fine. Whatever.”

Now that Cale had finished questioning Milz, he walked behind her and roughly hauled her out of her seat. The lion walked her over to a vacant room and pressed a button on the door beside it, watching as the metal automatic door slid open. He pushed the rabbit inside, and she turned around as she stood in the empty room.

“Why?” Cale demanded.

“Why what?”

The lion folded his arms and sniffed. Milz looked down in the corner of the room and chuckled. “Oh…that. Do you like eating doughnuts?”

“Yes.”

“You like eating hot dogs?”

“Yes.”

“You like eating pancakes?”

“Yes.”

“Good. Do that every day for months. Never deviate from your eating habits. Never change what you eat. Never change _how_ you eat it. Lemme know how long it takes ‘til you get bored.”

Cale scoffed. “Is that it? That’s…that’s _all_?”

Milz shrugged. “I like doing it. And it pays the bills. Did you want some traumatic backstory or some shit?”

“Killing people can get boring too.”

Milz didn’t say anything. She just looked at the lion’s tattoo on his left arm. Then she smirked at the feline and let out a wry laugh.

“You _would_ know.”

Cale didn’t take the bait. He lowered his arms and sniffled. “You gotta use the bathroom?”

Milz shook her head.

“Good. We’ll be at Schrader’s Space Station in a few hours. You try anything—”

“You gave me my phone call…s’all I wanted. Won’t cause any more trouble.”

“Hmph. Good.”

Cale punched the button on the wall, and the door slid shut. He inputted a few numbers into the keypad just beside the button, and a metallic clunk sounded, indicating that the door just locked. Sighing, Cale turned around and headed back into his personal bedroom, where he sat down on his bed and listened to the ship’s engine rumbling in the background. The lion looked down at the cabinet beside the bed, knowing full well what was inside of it. He stared at the cabinet’s door for a moment before exhaling and shaking his head. There was far too much he had to do in order to stop the Cartel; the photo inside of the cabinet was nothing more than a distraction.

So Cale just lied down on his bed and looked up at the ceiling, sorrowfully wondering what his partner would say if he was still with him.


	7. The Swamp

_Cale winced as he slowly opened his eyes. He waited for his vision to clear a bit before he looked at the tall figure in bed beside him and mumbled. The lion leaned close to Keevonu, smiling and reaching over to wrap his arm around his chest. Flaring his nostrils, Cale breathed in the snow leopard’s scent, letting his musk fill his lungs. He purred softly as he rubbed Keevonu’s bare chest, feeling all the ridges around his abs. Then Cale shifted his arm around to Keevonu’s backside, sliding his fingers down the snow leopard’s furry spine and pressing his paw against the base of Keevonu’s tail. Just as Cale began to push a few fingers in-between the snow leopard’s buttocks, Keevonu finally stirred and moved a bit._

_“Stop,” he mumbled, half-asleep._

_Cale grinned. “What if I don’t wanna?”_

_Keevonu, without tossing over on the mattress, lifted his right paw and unsheathed his claws so Cale could see. The snow leopard growled and flicked his tail at the lion’s arm._

_“Don’t need your fingers up my ass, hon.”_

_“Okay, okay, fine.”_

_Cale took his paw away, and Keevonu slowly lowered his paw and exhaled. Cale, meanwhile, didn’t feel like stopping. He stared at the snow leopard’s bare bottom, admiring how fat it was, before he slowly lifted Keevonu’s tail and bent forward, his tongue stuck out._

_“Don’t need your tongue up my ass neither,” Keevonu mumbled._

_Cale put his tongue back in his mouth and huffed. “You’re no fun.”_

_Keevonu exhaled as he shifted on the mattress a bit. “It’s still early in the morning, hon. Gonna need lots of rest if we’re to catch this new bounty.”_

_The snow leopard finally flipped himself over on the bed so he was looking directly at Cale’s face. “You do wanna catch this bounty, don’t you?”_

_“Of course I do.”_

_Before either of them could say anything else, Cale reached down and started groping Keevonu’s crotch, fondling with his testicles and penis._

_“But this could be our last moment together. Maybe we should—”_

_Keevonu slapped Cale’s paw away and giggled. “You’ll get your dues, Tomlik. Gotta work for it first.”_

_Warm breath flowed from Cale’s mouth as he exhaled and nuzzled Keevonu. “Okay, Keevonu. Later.”_

_Both felines smiled at each other as they started to close their eyes. Cale scooted closer to Keevonu and wrapped his arms around his warm body, purring again as he cuddled the beast. He lost consciousness moments later._

__________________________________________

And woke up feeling groggy again. Cale grunted as he opened his eyes and looked at the bed, exhaling with frustration once he noticed that no one else was there. But it couldn’t be helped, and Cale snorted as he sat up and stretched his arms, trying to get himself together so he could transport Milz Dillvor. Cale looked at his empty bed again and wiped his eyes before glaring down at the cabinet and opening it up. He took out one of the bottles containing blue sludge and drank a sufficient portion of the fluids before wiping his mouth and sealing the bottle back up. He flicked his eyes down at the picture of himself smiling alongside Keevonu and scowled. Then he stuffed the bottle back inside before slamming the cabinet shut and putting all of his clothes back on.

_You’ll be fine_ , Cale, the lion told himself.

_You’ve been fine this long. You’ll continue to be fine without him._

_________________________________________________

Milz Dillvor grunted as Cale shoved her into a jail cell and slammed the door shut. The rabbit surveyed her small cell, moments before the door automatically locked behind her. Exhaling, Cale moved away from the cell to go talk to Stollar, while Milz let out a long breath and heard someone grunting in the cell next to hers.

“Hey, Milz! That you? It’s Gaines! Heard that lion mention your name a few times,” Gaines stated.

Milz huffed. “Yeah…yeah, they caught me. Guessing they found out you was connected to us.”

“No shit. How’d they bag ya?”

“Compassion for a friend. How’d they bag you?”

“Dick cheese.”

“Mm.”

Milz decided she wasn’t going to talk to Gaines any more. Meanwhile, Cale walked over to Stollar’s desk and folded his arms when he saw the gray-skinned, big-eared alien fidgeting with a pencil and a padlock.

“Those require keys,” Cale said matter-of-factly.

The alien grinned, showing off enough teeth to make a shark wince. “Do they?”

The pencil broke as he shoved the tip into the lock. Stollar frowned.

“Fuck.” Stollar set the pencil and padlock down before looking at Cale. “You’ve seen better days.”

“Nothing I can’t handle.”

“You sure? I mean, you almost got killed by two nameless thugs. That’s kind of embarrassing.”

“I was _naked_. And I need to remind you that I killed said thugs _while_ naked.”

“Yeah, yeah, and I’ve sucked my own cock when I was fifteen before.”

“This do— _what_?”

“What?”

Cale pointed at Stollar and raised an eyebrow. Then he closed his eyes and shook his head, deciding it was better if he didn’t delve deeper into the details. “Never mind. Let’s go somewhere private.”

“You the boss, big guy!”

Stollar and Cale moved away from the alien’s desk and into one of the vacant corridors. Stollar unlocked one of the cells and led Cale inside so the two of them could talk in secret.

“Look,” Cale started. “Milz gave me a whole deal of information. The Cartel’s planning on decimating an entire moon by creating a lethal pathogen that’ll wipe out everyone on the planet.”

Stollar frowned. “You’re serious.”

“They got it all planned out. Milz was supposed to assassinate some members of the IGPA so they would be replaced by other police agents corrupted by the Cartel. The Chemist, a Doctor Vogar Oblingor, is the one manufacturing the agent. They’re gonna ship off a sample to Gobor, who’s going to test it out in his own city. And then the Mule—well, Kolson Arcornoc—is gonna use his smugglers to distribute the pathogen to their employer so it can be unleashed onto the target. The Baron is the one who arranged for all of this to happen.”

“So then what the hell are we waiting for? I can punch in Kolson’s name, get his social security number, find out if he has any family or relatives—”

“Don’t. Milz told me that Kolson is always on the move. Sometimes he only stays in one location for a few hours at a time. Only way we’re catching him is if we know precisely where he is and when.”

“Damn it.” Stollar rolled his tongue around his mouth and folded his arms. “And we don’t know where Gobor Grizzer is yet. And we still don’t even know the Baron’s real name.”

“This is a better advantage, honestly. Dr. Oblingor is making the pathogen, and if I catch him before he ships it off to Kolson and Gobor—”

“Then the Cartel can’t attack the moon, and all we’ll have to worry about is bagging the other three leaders.”

“Exactly. And I know he’s in the country Demyl in the swamps. So all I have to do is look for his laboratory and apprehend him.”

“So you’re saying you just have to explore hundreds of acres of nasty-ass, marshy waters infested with deadly, toxic aliens, various backwater gangs, all while dealing with the humid, fetid air, and infiltrate this scientist’s lab, despite not knowing how large it is, how heavily fortified it is, and not knowing what illegal operations he’s concocting behind closed doors.”

Cale glared at Stollar as he smirked and showed off all of his serrated yellow teeth again.

“I envy knowing that I cannot knock out all your teeth because they’ll grow back in a matter of days anyway.”

“S’how it is bud!”

The lion changed the subject. “Okay, so as of now, I say we get a third party involved.”

“Yeah, because we should get the IGPA to help us so they’ll just take credit for all of _our_ hard work.”

“Not _them_ , Stollar. I mean resources like Rellis Rottili. Not him specifically, but someone who is a rival of the Quintuple Cartel.”

“Enemy of my enemy…heh. Sure, why not? Maybe they’ll help you traverse the swamp safely or get you into the labs.”

“That’s all we have to go on. Look up all information regarding Dr. Oblingor and see if there’s any known associates in Demyl Swamp I can contact.”

“Gotcha. Shouldn’t take too long.”

______________________________________

Stollar whimpered as he pressed his head against his desk. Cale was standing behind him looking fully alert as he drank a fruity, carbonated beverage. After the alien thumped his head against the desk three times, Cale smacked him in the back of his head and pointed at the monitor.

“Keep going. We should be getting close.”

“Caaaaaaaaaallllle…it’s been six hours!” Stollar whined.

“Let’s shoot for seven.”

“Caaaaaaaaaaaaalllllllllllllleeee! I have to pee!”

“Go in your pants.”

“CALE!”

“Sooner you find the name, sooner you can go piss.”

“I’m not wait…” Stollar stared at the plastic bottle the lion was drinking from. He stood up and snatched it out of his paws, scowling.

“GIMME THAT!”

Stollar immediately chugged the rest of the fluids inside the bottle. Then he sat down, unzipped his pants, and quickly stuffed his penis into the bottle. Cale listened as Stollar exhaled, and he heard fluids splashing against plastic. The lion folded his arms and smirked.

“Rookie’s learning. Good.”

“Fuck off. Only reason why I’m not doing it on the floor is cause I’m gonna have to clean it up again.”

“Sure.”

After Stollar finished draining his bladder, he looked at the long list of names once again before scrolling down the page and exhaling as he spotted a name with a picture of a crocodile posted beside it.

“Oh yay, entry number seven hundred and twenty-nine.” Stollar exhaled. “Yordin Mannil. Crocodile. Forty-nine. Apparently used to work at Stormyre Industries until that whole mess with Guruu Hannes occurred. Then he transferred over to work under Dr. Oblingor.”

“And then he went missing.”

Stollar huffed. “Seems like—oh wait, hold up. …No, apparently he’s still living in the swamps. He’s even got an address right here.”

“…And Yordin’s name is at the very bottom of this list. …Narrow down the list to confirmed deceased again.”

Stollar specified the search again to include Vogar’s known associates who were confirmed dead. Seventy-five names showed up.

“Okay…pull up the whole list again.”

Stollar reverted the search back to its present state. “Cale, trust me. I caught that too. There’s, what, eight hundred names on this list? Seventy-five of them died in ‘accidents.’ And of the other six hundred and fifty-four names we’ve already come across, Yordin is the only person who hasn’t gone ‘missing’ and has a known address put in the system.”

Cale and Stollar stared at each other before looking back at the list. “So whatcha thinking, Cale?”

“You can’t declare someone deceased if they’re not dead. So this doctor…has he been convicted of anything?”

“Dr. Oblingor? Nah. He’s gotten a bunch of awards, some pedigrees, blah blah blah, other smartsy shit. Guy hasn’t so much as loitered in public.”

“Because he’s not loitering. He’s reitoling.”

Stollar thought for a moment before putting it together quickly. “Ohhhhhh…well. Shit. So all these missing people—”

“This isn’t just about securing a chemical weapon anymore. If Dr. Oblingor is doing what I think he’s doing then they’re going after Yordin next.”

“Most likely.”

Cale rubbed his forehead. “I’m heading out now then. Better for me to get to Demyl sooner than later.”

“Want me to come down with you this time? I mean you almost died going after Milz; I doubt Dr. Oblingor is any less dangerous.”

“No. I’ll get Yordin to tag along; he should be enough help.”

“What about your eye? I can add those recording features to it so I can see what you see. Might be useful if we need any evidence.”

“Fine, sure. I still gotta get my arm repaired anyways. …Actually. I got something else I need to do first.”

“Spend your money on something that doesn’t include more weapons or upgrades for your cybernetic implants?”

“Not exactly.”

_____________________________________

The doctor yelped when Cale kicked open his door and stomped into his office carrying a duffel bag. Cale slammed the door shut before he walked up to the doctor’s desk huffing.

“What the hell, Cale?! I told you not to meet me in person anymore!” the elk cried.

Cale set his bag down on the desk and exhaled. “Dr. Goode. I need my pills. Now. It’s been well over a week; I know you have them.”

“No, I don’t. I told you, it’s been difficult getting ahold of—”

“Give me. My fucking. Pills.”

The elk glared at Cale before leaning back in his chair and smirking. “You can’t harm me, Cale. One scratch on my face, cops send your ass to prison.”

“Then the cops discover all the ‘legal’ shit you’re prescribing to your patients.”

“Or maybe I share some of my knowledge of where I acquire my medicine to the IGPA. I maintain my business while a few drug dealers get put in jail. Sure, I’ll take a hit, but it won’t be long ‘fore I find another dealer to buy from.”

Cale exhaled as he reached down and unzipped his duffel bag. Then he grabbed it and turned it upside-down, dumping out all of its contents onto the table. Dr. Goode shouted and scowled as he looked at various packs of stained, padded material that had been balled up. He immediately covered his nose and looked up at the lion.

“What the hell is this repulsive mess?!”

“Those are all the diapers I’ve soiled since I’ve run out of pills. This pathogen is becoming more aggressive, Doctor. I can’t go a week without vomiting—sometimes a full twenty-four hours. I can’t go to sleep without waking up and realizing I either wet or shat myself. I can’t eat anything loaded with too much salt without the risk of having a heart attack. My gums are decaying; if people aren’t complaining about my missing teeth, they’re complaining about my halitosis.”

Cale planted his knuckles into the desk, breathing heavily as he listened to the wood crackling beneath his artificial right arm.

“It’s accelerating, Doctor. Most of my organs are becoming inoperable. How long before it reaches my bones? How long before I’m visiting you in a wheelchair? I just…I need these pills. And I need more of that potion.”

Dr. Goode huffed. “There’s no known cure yet. You know that. Until they find one, what I’m giving you is only slowing down the inevitable.”

“A cure is irrelevant; I’ll worry about that once it’s found. What _is_ relevant, as of this very moment, is that I can’t do my job without your medication. I shat myself while I was chasing one of my recent suspects, and I just so happened to _not_ be wearing a diaper at the time. You’ve any idea how degrading that is?”

Cale moved away from the desk and huffed. “I know this pathogen’s killing me. I’m trying to stay optimistic. I haven’t been coughing up or puking up blood; there’s still time. All I’m asking is that you extend my time limit. Those pills can maintain my health long enough for a cure to be found…s’all I want.”

The elk exhaled and shook his head. “My god…I had no idea it had gotten that bad.”

“Just…give me my pills. You know I got the money for it.”

“Mm. Yes. You _do_ have the money for it. And more, from what I heard…”

Cale widened his nostrils. “What?”

“You see, I got the pills, but…it took a lot of time and effort to get ahold of them. And, um, unfortunately…the price has increased. If you catch my drift.”

“The price remains.”

“The price has tripled.”

“The price remains.”

Dr. Goode sniffed. “The price has doubled.”

“The price remains. You’re not getting a penny more than what I usually give you.”

“Well. That’s too bad. Guess you’ll spend the next several weeks suffering from indigestion, vomiting, incontinence, and perhaps a heart attack or two. But my receptionist has plenty of peppermints at her desk, free of charge. The least I can do is cure that awful breath of yours.”

Dr. Goode slowly smirked widely at Cale. Cale slowly narrowed his eyes and unsheathed his claws.

_____________________________________

The receptionist raised an eyebrow when she heard thumping and muffled shouts coming from Dr. Goode’s office. Curious, she walked over to the elk’s door and heard someone coughing, before the muffled shouting resumed. Fearing something was amiss, she opened the door and walked inside.

“Doctor, is someth—what the hell is going on?!”

“GET THE FUCK OUT!” Cale bellowed.

The receptionist stared at Cale and Dr. Goode. Dr. Goode was frantically trying to shove Cale’s arms away, while Cale was shoving one of his diapers—which he had reopened—into Dr. Goode’s face and rubbing it up and down. The receptionist immediately closed the door. Seconds later, she heard muffled vomiting.

_________________________________

Cale took a deep breath as he walked around the sloshy terrain, feeling the warm, wet soil squishing beneath his footpaws. The lion rubbed his nose as he looked at the various pits full of brackish, muddy-looking water that emitted steam and occasionally bubbled. The whole area was foggy and humid; Cale could already feel moisture forming in his fur and around his mane. The trees growing in the thick areas of the water were dark green and yellow, looking like they were riddled with algae and fungi. Some of the trees were sprouting drooping leaves that looked like thin tendrils dangling low like webs. Others were completely barren, all the leaves having fallen off as the seasons changed. When Cale looked up into the trees, he could see strange primates hanging from the branches or swinging to and fro, many of their backs smothered in algae that matched the trees they were occupying. One of the primates turned and looked at Cale, and the lion could see that it had six eyes, and a set of sharp teeth complete with a tongue that was over a foot long. As Cale continued along the squishy path, he heard something bubbling in the swamp, followed by a muffled growl.

The bounty hunter turned and saw a set of grey eyes appear on the surface of the water, followed by two bulbous nostrils. Cale stopped walking and stared at the being in the sludge. Then he turned so he was displaying his newly modified plasma pistol, which now had a secondary firing mechanism that could fire two plasma bursts at once. Cale kept staring at the entity in the water and scowled, and the beast slowly disappeared into the water. When Cale turned and continued walking, he spotted more eyes rising to the surface of the water. Only this time around, Cale ignored them and decided it would be best to walk fast.

“You arrived yet, Cale?” Stollar asked over the earpiece.

Cale grunted and scratched his ear. “I have visual on the cabin. Maintain radio silence for now; I don’t wanna scare him off.”

“Understood.”

After Cale shut off his earpiece, he resumed walking through the soggy path, making his way past some of the trees with the drooping leaves that grazed his upper body. When he finished shoving them aside, the feline found a small wooden cabin that had a pickup truck parked in front of it. It looked like some kind of modern home Cale would find out in the countryside: no presence of technology except a satellite dish, no strange electrical equipment, no automated or robotic entities surrounding the cabin; even the truck was just a standard vehicle with four rubber tires on it. When Cale approached the front porch of the cabin, he saw a hefty crocodile sitting down on the front steps, a bottle of cider in his left hand and a sawed-off shotgun in the other. The crocodile poured a huge amount of the yellowish-brown fluids into his long muzzle, guzzling down the carbonated fluids, before setting his bottle down and sighing.

“You Cale Tomlik?”

“Depends. You Yordin Mannil?”

The light green crocodile grumbled as he stood up from the porch holding his shotgun. He slowly approached Cale, not pointing the gun at him, but keeping his finger on the trigger. Cale studied the crocodile as Yordin studied the lion. Both of them narrowed their eyes and kept staring, sizing each other up. All Cale saw was some overweight crocodile only clad in a pair of ripped dark blue overalls and a white baseball cap. He didn’t have any tattoos on his body, although part of his snout was scarred, and he was missing some of his teeth. All Yordin saw was some lion clad in black pants and a black vest, albeit he saw the tattoo on his left arm, and he noticed that one of his eyes was slightly discolored. The crocodile leaned forward and sniffed Cale a few times, grumbling afterwards. Cale did the same, detecting the naturally odor of swamp gas in the crocodile’s body and cider on his breath.

“There a problem?” Cale asked.

Yordin scoffed and gestured towards his truck. “Get in.”

Cale observed the reptile walking over to his truck and unlocking the driver’s door. As he opened the door, the crocodile gestured towards the passenger’s door, prompting Cale to get inside the vehicle.

“You wanna catch this asshole or not?” Yordin asked.

The lion blinked. “All right, fine.”

______________________________________

Cale sat silently in the truck, leaning against the door and examining the surroundings in Demyl Swamp. Hundreds of trees and various bodies of disgusting water kept passing by. Sometimes the lion would spot more of the strange primates in the trees, and at one point he caught a glimpse of one of the gray-eyed beasts yawning and revealing the hundreds of teeth built inside its mouth. When some of the water ended and Cale saw dry land, the truck traveled by a small set of houses that were also wooden and looked broken down, with some of the windows shattered and tiles missing from the rooftops. The gas station they came across only had one customer pumping gas into his car, some dark grey crocodile not wearing a shirt and clad in a pair of pants sagging and showing off his underwear. Cale turned away from the window and exhaled as he looked at the road up ahead. He could see out the corner of his left eye that Yordin was repeatedly flicking his eyes at him, remaining silent.

“What?” Cale snarled.

“Cephalopodan Strikers. Hmph. Fuckin’ stupid-ass name if you ask me.”

“Didn’t make it. Just joined the squad.”

“Uh-huh. So you’re a cub-killer.”

Cale turned and scowled as he looked at the crocodile. Yordin shrugged. “I mean. May as well fuckin’ admit it.”

“I didn’t kill cubs.”

“So pups then.”

“No.”

“Kitties?”

“Just drive the damn truck.”

“Hmph. Guess you don’t like talkin’ ‘bout that part of your life.”

Cale exhaled. “You been in the military?”

“Course.”

“Marines?”

“Army. Sergeant actually. Shit happened. Now I’m back home.”

“Mm. So you killed innocent people.”

“Damn straight I did.”

“Then you understand what collateral damage is. You aren’t proud of it. But you know it could’ve been avoided. You tell yourself you were following orders, that the ends justify the means, and then you go to sleep and forget it all.”

“No, nah, you don’t forget the shit _you’ve_ done.”

“You don’t know what I’ve done.”

Yordin turned and looked at Cale. “You don’t know what _I’ve_ done.”

Both anthros stared at each other for a moment before Yordin looked back at the road again. The crocodile sighed and rubbed his snout, checking to make sure that nothing was out on the road obstructing his path. Then the crocodile looked over at the lion’s fingers and sniffed.

“Ain’t married.”

“Nah.”

“Hm. So who you fuckin’?”

“Who am—what?”

“You ain’t married. So you fuckin’ someone. Who is it?”

“How do you know I’m fuckin’ anyone?”

Yordin chuckled. “We’re males. Inanimate objects, corpses, humans—I saw a fuckin’ porno of some lizard fucking a pile of donkey shit. Apparently that’s a ‘thing’ some people are into.”

Cale exhaled and rubbed his forehead. “My tattoo, my sex life—why does any of this matter?”

“Just need to know who I’m about to get in bed with.”

“I was fuckin’ a snow leopard named Drake Keevonu. Happy?”

“Mm. _Was_. Huh… _Drake_. So you one of them faggots. Prolly shoulda guessed based on how you dress with your vest all open and your gut all splayed out and shit.”

Growling, Cale rolled his tongue around his mouth before he glared at the crocodile. Yordin flicked his eyes at the lion before shrugging.

“Oh sure, go ahead and say it. I’m nothin’ but homophobic swamp trash. Brackish fecal matter just floatin’ along the rim of the water. And no, ain’t got no wife. Ain’t got no kids. Not that anyone would love me. Don’t blame ‘em.”

“Again, why is any of this relevant?”

“People in this world—people _everywhere_ —they don’t bother telling you straight up how they feel. They gotta weasel around a bush. They gotta hold it in like a giant shit. They gotta ignore it. I dun’ believe in any a’ that shit. Can’t work with someone if they gonna be unpredictable.”

Yordin exhaled as he looked at Cale and sized him up again. “So…what, late fifties? Hmph…you still know how to shoot properly? Your eyesight good? Got any artificial parts?”

“Yes, fifties. Yes, I can shoot. One of my eyes is gone but I can still see. And my right arm is cybernetic.”

“Mkays. I’m all whole. Creeping up on fifty myself. Still know how—”

“Most people, they salute as a friendly gesture. They shake your paw. They say ‘hello’ or ask how you’re doing. They’re not interrogated. If you would refrain from delving into my personal life, I would appreciate it.”

“You wanna know what I do every now and then? I go a month without showering, without brushing my teeth. Sometimes I walk into a store, talk to everyone I see, just to see if anyone will say anything about the smell. At one point, I decided to fart nonstop inside of a restaurant. Made sure they were all them loud ass-rippers. No one said nothing. Well, _someone_ did—some nice young salamander. She told me that I was some uncouth slob, and that I needed to learn some manners or to go see a doctor. I just stood up with a huge smirk on my face, nudged her shoulder, and said, ‘good for you.’ Never saw her again, but, eh, she was my kind of gal.”

“That was an incredibly inspiring tale,” Cale murmured sarcastically.

“So’s this one. Back when I was in the army, I was friends with everyone in my unit. Everyone. But we all hated our cunt of a lieutenant. Always had a loud mouth, always acting better than her fellow soldiers, always pretending that she owned all the shit around her. So…one day, we’re under enemy fire. My lieutenant’s pinned down. One of my buddies was a sniper, was supposed to take out some enemy troops. He didn’t. So when my lieutenant stood up, her brains were splattered all over me.”

“That’s a shame.”

“It _was_ a shame,” Yordin snarled. “My lieutenant…she was human. Everyone in my squad was an anthro. Catch my drift?”

Cale cleared his throat. “I ain’t a fan of humans neither. But still…that was cowardly.”

“It sickened me, Tomlik. My friends were laughing that they let their fellow soldier die in battle because…what? She had skin instead of fur or scales? Who gives a fuck? When you’re under enemy fire, and your feet are in the mud, and you got shit running down your pants, you don’t care ‘bout your ally’s skin color or what they look like. You work together and get your shit done.”

Yordin shook his head and snorted. “Transferred out. Couldn’t stand them cunts no longer.”

“…Just a few minutes ago, you called me a faggot. You got some problems, Yordin?”

“Course I do. Ain’t takin’ that shit back neither, cause you _are_ a faggot.”

“And you’re a homophobic, condescending, blunt son of a bitch.”

Yordin grinned widely before looking at Cale. “And yet we’re working together. How ‘bout that?”

Cale exhaled. “Incredible circumstances, I agree.”

“Hmph. Vogar was just like you. S’why he hired me. When we were at our first meeting where he planned on deciding whether I should work for him, I didn’t bother sugar-coating anything. Told him he was an asshole. Told him he treated his employees horribly. Told him his breath smelled like the swamp gas spewing out of these cesspools ‘round here. Told him he’s a narcissistic twat, and that I’m not gonna put up with that kind of bullshit. So, naturally, he hired me. Said he appreciated my honesty, that he was happy someone came along who wasn’t afraid to speak their mind.”

“Sounds like you two were quite the pair. So what happened?”

Yordin exhaled. “Same fuckin’ thing that always happens. Same thing that happened when those white people hung all those black people because they hated their skin color. Same thing that happens when an innocent homosexual couple gets beaten to death because some fag-bashers hate the fact that two males can fuck each other. Same thing that happens when people are executed because one group of people worships a bull, and another worships a monkey. …Same fuckin’ thing that happened to my lieutenant cause she was human, and her squad wasn’t.”

Cale stared at Yordin and noticed that he looked genuinely melancholic, silently mulling over the state that the universe was inevitably devolving into. He turned away and tried to relax in his seat, looking out of his window again at the brackish, foggy scenery passing him by and spotting a few other vile creatures clinging onto the trees or residing in the water.

“Was looking for a serial killer once,” Cale suddenly began. “Real nasty bastard. Went after many transgenders and homosexuals. Guess he despised our ‘lifestyle.’ Anyway. When I was following a lead, I came across another victim, this fat hog who had been burned to death, and had one half of a pool cue inserted into his rectum, while the other was jammed in his mouth. You wanna know what I told the police when they questioned me?”

“What?”

“He got spit-roasted.”

Cale listened to the crocodile as he burst out laughing hysterically, chortling so hard that he shut his eyes and had to slow the truck down a bit so he wouldn’t accidentally swerve off the road. The lion smirked as he looked at the reptile again, while Yordin coughed a few times and took several deep breaths.

“God _damn_. Still fuckin’ amazes me, the shit we joke about and laugh at nowadays.”

Cale shrugged. “S’all you can do now.”

_________________________________________________

The duo arrived at the laboratory a half-hour later. The lab wasn’t anything magnificent, just another massive warehouse with dozens of windows and several smokestacks producing smog into the atmosphere. In front of the warehouse was an electric fence that had a security station in front of it with some reptilian anthros guarding the premises. Yordin drove up to the security station and held up his badge towards one of the guards, while another two looked at Cale and started inspecting him.

“Hey, Yordin. Whatcha doin’ with this mammal?” one guard asked.

“Fuck’s it look like? Dr. Oblingor was bitching about more security. Here’s more security.”

“One anthro?”

“I can take him back if you’d like. And then you can listen to the good doctor berate you for throwing away more assistance. Last I checked, the doctor’s been doing some important shit lately.”

Another guard, a blue-scaled crocodile, groaned and shook his head, waving for Yordin to drive in. “Whatever, go in. Long as we don’t have to listen to that cronok ranting again.”

“Thanks.”

After the guards turned off the electricity and opened the gate, Yordin drove into the warehouse’s main parking lot, where he stationed his vehicle away from most of the other ones so no one would be able to see what he or Cale was doing. Both of them got out of the truck, moments before slamming the doors shut. Cale reached up and turned on his earpiece again before sticking his fingers around his left eyeball and squinting until he heard a faint click. Yordin observed the lion and grimaced.

“Fuck you doin’?”

Cale exhaled and lowered his paw. “Ocular recording device. May as well document whatever I find in here in case something goes wrong.”

“That’s usually what people say when they _want_ something to go wrong.”

The lion blinked and said nothing. Yordin and Cale walked over to the warehouse’s main entrance, where the two guards standing by the oversized metal sliding doors punched in a code to activate the doors. They rumbled and crackled for a bit as they opened up, sliding into the walls and revealing a seemingly barren warehouse that was filled with all sorts of doors, corridors, catwalks, and even a few pallet jacks and power jacks. Both anthros walked inside and could feel cool wind blasting against their faces from the air conditioning. As the doors closed behind Cale and Yordin, Cale heard someone grunting as they moved a pallet full of chemicals using a pallet jack, while two lizards walked past Cale and Yordin holding a clipboard and talking amongst themselves. All the lights inside the building were fluorescent, shining brightly to illuminate all the rooms. Cale spotted what appeared to be a break room on the second floor, where a few scientists were sitting inside talking to each other, their voices muted behind glass barriers. After Cale finished observing the break room above him, he turned to look around the floor again, seeing several security guards clad in black vests or shirts and navy blue trousers.

“Strange,” Cale said.

“What is?”

“There are approximately fourteen guards—fifteen that I’ve seen down here. And yet I’ve only seen five scientists. And this floor seems rather empty.”

“Yeah…I’ll get into that later. Hold on.” Yordin rubbed his nose as he walked over to a guard leaning against the wall and snarled. “Hey, Forgol! The fuck’s Dr. Oblingor at?”

The oversized brown crocodile snorted as he looked at Yordin. “Break room. Stuffin’ his fuckin’ face like always.”

“Thanks.”

As Yordin began to leave, Forgol glared at Cale and scowled. “Whatcha doin’ here, mammal? Don’t ‘memba’ the doctor sayin’ he were gettin’ more guards.”

Cale shrugged. “Got transferred. Been floatin’ around lately. Ended up here.”

Forgol was about to say something else when he caught a glimpse of his tattoo. The brown crocodile grinned widely and laughed deeply. “Ohhhhhhh…Striker, eh?” Forgol clicked his tongue. “No wonda why the doctor had you sent here!”

Cale didn’t respond. He and Yordin just headed up a set of stairs near the entrance and arrived on the second floor. Once there, they walked along the metal floor and straight into the break room, where they spotted a dark green cronok with a humongous belly standing in front of a taller scientist who was scowling at him.

“Dr. Oblingor, please. There were _twelve_ doughnuts up here half an hour ago. That’s the last one!” the skink cried.

The cronok licked his jagged yellow teeth as he held a doughnut with chocolate glaze in his right hand. “Correct, Dr. Jymwor. But you are such a delightful skink…such a pristine beast…do you really want to tarnish your figure with so much fat and sugar?”

The skink huffed and folded her arms. “What about _your_ figure? I could roll your fat ass down the stairs if I wanted to.”

“Indeed. My figure is already tarnished. One more doughnut won’t harm me! But you…”

Dr. Oblingor chuckled as he leaned forward and grabbed one of Dr. Jymwor’s arms, rubbing his slimy hand against her sleek scales.

“This doughnut will go straight to your waist. And I can’t have that.”

The skink jerked her arm away from the cronok and immediately smacked him across the face. She stomped out of the break room, shoving her way past Cale and Yordin, while Vogar merely sighed and shook his head.

“Females. Such fragile figures, they are.”

Then Vogar stuffed the entire doughnut into his mouth, mumbling and chewing on it before swallowing in a matter of seconds. Yordin cleared his throat as he walked up to the doctor, while Vogar grumbled and turned around, facing the crocodile.

“How wonderful! Good to see you again, Yordin!” Vogar said.

“Yeah. Nice to see you’re still the same perverted son of a bitch that you’ve always been.”

Vogar snorted. “You know how Dr. Jymwor is. Very sensitive.” The cronok sniffed as he looked past Yordin and spotted Cale. “Hmm. And what is this thing standing in my break room?”

“Mammal. Lion. Former soldier. An amalgamation of fur, flesh, fluids, and bones. You choose,” Cale responded.

Vogar rubbed his chin and thumped his tail on the floor a few times. He leaned over and looked at the tattoo on Cale’s shoulder before grumbling.

“New bodyguard, I presume?”

“Sure as shit ain’t no scientist.”

“Hmm. Yordin, why did you think that I need more security in my laboratory?”

“Prolly cause the last ‘experiment’ of yours killed five guards. He’s here on my recommendation; just got transferred after I said you could use more assistance.”

Vogar exhaled and looked at Cale’s weapon. “Plasma weaponry. Hmm…well. Suppose if we’re under attack from an alien threat, that would come in handy. I’ve no problem with you staying then.”

Cale nodded. “Understood. I’ll talk to your head of security—”

“No, you will not. _I_ shall show you around _my_ lab. There are many areas of interest that I’m sure you’ll find most pleasing.”

“And if I refuse?”

“Then feel free to walk off my property. And feel free to walk away from a rather sizeable paycheck.”

Cale looked at Yordin as the crocodile smiled. Then he looked back down at Vogar’s overconfident grin and nodded.

“Hmph. Fine then. Guess it won’t hurt taking a tour of this place.”

____________________________________

Cale groaned as he rubbed his head, growing very tired of listening to the doctor’s lectures. Yordin was already leaning against one of the walls and struggling to keep himself awake, now donning a white lab coat to cover most of his overalls, with his cap left back in his locker in the break room. The lion slowly moved his fingers around his plasma pistol, taking it out of the holster and checking the plasma’s power supply. It was fully charged. As the lion put the pistol back in its holster, Vogar lifted his right hand and pointed over to a huge containment area littered with dozens of giant vats.

“Inside here is where we make our insecticides. Many new species of insects are being discovered on other planets, and it just so happens that newer species are evolving, changing their anatomy so that they’re immune to common poisons. We’re always experimenting to find something new here,” Vogar said.

“I’ve noticed this guy is only inventing stuff that kills other animals or people. Why is that, do you think?” Stollar asked over Cale’s earpiece.

The lion ignored him and cleared his throat. “So, Doctor? Not entirely a fan of looking at giant containers holding gas. That’s what our stomachs are for, last I checked.”

“Mm. Of course _you_ would be bored by all these breakthroughs I’m showing you,” Vogar sneered. “But no worries. I decided to save my personal favorite for last!”

Yordin walked beside Cale and patted him on his right shoulder. “Brace yourself,” he warned.

The two anthros followed the cronok further down the hallway and took a right, where Vogar found himself heading towards a metal door that had been painted brown. He punched in a series of numbers into the keypad beside the door and waited for the door to hiss open. Vogar waved for Yordin and Cale to come follow him into a seemingly dark room. Cale and Yordin followed the doctor inside, and Cale immediately grimaced when the scent of chemicals and various reptiles who needed a shower was replaced with an odor one would typically find inside of a zoo. The lion held in a cough as he stepped into the dimly-lit room that had enclosures on both the left and right sides. When Vogar turned around and looked at the anthros, he smirked and started to point at the giant enclosures that were walled off with colossal glass barriers that were several inches thick.

“This here is the genetics division! As you can see, my craft extends far beyond mere chemicals and cleaning agents. I’ve grown quite fond of investigating your species.”

“Yes, Doctor. You’ve told me many times before,” said Yordin, before pointing to one of the enclosures. “Not entirely fond of that pen over there.”

Vogar rolled his eyes. “I’ve already told you I’d be experimenting on your kind. It is your duty to tolerate it.”

Cale walked over to the enclosure that Yordin had pointed to and looked inside. Some artificial rocks and plants had been placed inside, along with a small pool of water that looked filthy. Inside of the enclosure were five crocodiles, all of whom were naked and not saying a word to each other. Two of the crocodiles were snarling at each other, going as far as dropping on all fours and thumping their tails on the fake floor. One crocodile was sleeping in the corner, one was drinking out of the pool that looked like it had urine inside of it, and the last one was ravenously tearing at raw flesh. Cale scowled as he stared at the deadly reptiles before he turned and rushed back over to Vogar.

“Hey, Doctor. These are anthros,” Cale stated.

“Yes, they are. I appreciate you pointing out what is evident.”

“I mean, what’s wrong with them?”

Vogar huffed as he stopped walking and turned around, glaring at Yordin and Cale. “What’s wrong with _you_? Why are you two walking on two legs? Why are you wearing clothes? Why are you _talking_?”

Cale narrowed his eyes. “I was born like this, Doctor.”

Vogar shook his head and scoffed before he turned around and resumed showing off the enclosures. Yordin and Cale came across more pens and giant walled off areas holding more primeval animals: tigers, alligators, crocodiles, gorillas—Cale lost track of how many different species were locked inside the walls, having reverted back to a simpler, primitive state. As they reached the end of the hallway, the trio came across a young employee who was controlling a power jack that had an immense crate placed on a red pallet. When the employee spotted Vogar, he stopped the machine and grunted.

“Where you want the bodies, Doctor?”

“Must I—” Vogar groaned and rubbed his forehead. “The swamps. The swamps, Leonard. I have told you this over and over and over again. Dump them in the swamps.”

The chubby spotted gecko swallowed hard. “I was—I was just making sure. Thirty bodies just seems like a waste to throw away.”

“They are not bodies, Leonard. Those are rejects. Refuse. Unworthy. Shit. Do you understand the meaning of any of these words, Leonard?” Vogar asked, his voice rising with irritation.

“I just…I wanted—”

“I do not care what you want! Learn to do your job more efficiently without pestering me every five seconds! Or perhaps you want to volunteer to sample one of my newest concoctions? Wouldn’t mind seeing how it reacts to gecko blood.”

Leonard didn’t say anything. He just looked on the floor for a moment before he turned on the power jack and resumed moving backwards with the pallet. Once he was out of the room, Vogar exhaled harshly before leading the two anthros towards the final enclosure in the room.

“All right, and here’s the last display! I’m still deciding on what to do with the test subjects in here. They may become refuse soon enough.”

Cale looked inside the enclosure with horror. He wasn’t even sure what he was looking at, but the creatures behind the glass were far too small to be adults. Yordin looked inside the enclosure too and huffed, backing away and folding his arms self-consciously.

“Now Yordin. We talked about this. This is just chemistry. This is what it looks like,” Vogar explained.

“Why the fuck do you still have them?” the crocodile asked.

Vogar shrugged. “Why not? They may come in handy someday…and if not, well, I’ll just have them dumped in the swamps. I’m sure those vile agamids will enjoy snacking on them.”

“Are there infants in there?” Cale asked.

Vogar was about to answer, but then he pressed his snout against the window pane and observed the creatures within the enclosure very carefully. He counted each individual beast with his index fingers before rubbing his chin.

“Oh dear. Think they were devoured.”

Cale grabbed his pistol and removed it from its holster. Yordin immediately grabbed the lion’s wrist and subtly shook his head, while the lion gritted his teeth. The chubby feline snorted as he stuffed the pistol back into its holster and took a deep breath. Vogar turned around and clapped his hands together, grinning.

“Well, perhaps I should leave you two alone for now. I’ve a few personal matters to attend to, and I’m sure both of you are growing weary of listening to my fervent blether. Yordin, feel free to show the new mammal to the other break room. I’ll be back to check on you in a few minutes.”

Cale and Yordin watched as Vogar walked out of the genetics division. The moment he was gone, Cale curled his right paw into a fist, almost ruining the fake fur covering his metal arm.

“How long?”

Yordin shrugged. “I’ve been working for the doctor for over six months. These pens were already here when I joined.”

“Your file said you took leave for five weeks. Vogar kill your wife or something? Is your child in that pen back there?”

Yordin flared his nostrils and lifted his left arm. “I broke my arm. Intentionally. I saw an opportunity and I took it.”

“So, what, you’ve been sitting on your ass for the last month allowing this shit to carry on?”

“Fuck you. You saw that gecko back there driving the power jack. You see all these bodies in these pens. And I’m sure you did your research before you came down here. Did you actually _look_ into those ‘accidents’ that occurred?”

“Yes, for over six hours,” Stollar snarled in Cale’s ear.

Cale swatted at his ear, as if somehow Stollar would be able to feel it. Then he looked at Yordin and sniffed. “So Vogar had seventy-five of his employees killed. Whistleblowers, I presume.”

“Dunno. Don’t care. But Vogar has a habit of ‘firing’ people and hiring new scientists and security guards. A lotta those employees up and went missing. There are quite a few anthros in these enclosures. Connect the dots.”

Cale gritted his teeth before he sucked on his teeth and groaned. “Why not call the cops? Why not get evidence; why not get footage of what’s been going on here?”

“People tried. My buddy, Henry Gorno? He came straight to me and said he was gonna blow this whole thing wide open. You wanna know what happened to him? He went missing. For a whole week. No news story, no Internet blogs, no breaking story in the newspapers, nothing. So one day, Vogar comes to me, says he has a new ‘experiment’ to show me.”

Yordin led Cale over to one of the smaller enclosures that only had one beast inside of it. The anthro looked like a common bearded dragon, but like everyone else, he was naked, and his mind had regressed. Cale also noticed that the reptile inside was so thin that his bones were showing, bulging against his scales. The lion wasn’t even sure that he could still walk. He also noticed that there were piles of meat on the floor, now rotted, having been untouched. Yordin tapped on the glass a few times.

“Hey, Henry!”

The bearded dragon flicked his eyes up at Yordin and blinked. Then he looked away, and slowly turned around and sat in the corner.

“I thought they…Vogar said—”

“Vogar raped and killed his fuckin’ family, Cale. In front of him. Then he tossed him into this enclosure and just waited. Fucker bragged about it to my face.”

“…He’s still sentient.”

“He’s broken is what he is. Fucker’s gonna be dead in another week or two…tempted to throw a knife in there, if I’m being honest.”

“How long—”

“Long enough, Cale.”

Yordin moved Cale away from the enclosure and huffed. “Spent the last month trying to figure out what to do. Couldn’t call nobody. Couldn’t run in here guns blazing. Couldn’t leak anything to the authorities. Even if the cops knew, they wouldn’t care. Vogar makes a shit-ton of money making all those pesticides and chemicals he was blabbing on about. All he’s gotta do is transfer a few million dollars into someone’s bank account and they’ll keep quiet.”

“And then you got the message Stollar and I sent you.”

“Exactly. S’why I didn’t hesitate to help you two.”

Cale exhaled and ran a paw through his mane. “This what we’re gonna do: you find a way to draw all the employees out of here. Pull a fire alarm, make a fake announcement about a contamination breach—I do not care. Eliminate the guards if you have to. I’m going to extract the doctor and haul him out the swamps and into a prison cell.”

Yordin blinked. “That’s it?”

“That was my primary objective, yes. I planned on rendering the target unconscious and taking him to prison. But clearly what Dr. Oblingor is doing here complicates my mission.”

“No shit. What about Vogar’s ‘experiments’? We can’t drag all of these anthros out of here; neither of us have a vehicle big enough to fit them all into.”

“Burn it.”

“ _Burn_ it?”

Cale shrugged. “Set a fire. Flood the facility with toxic gas poisonous enough to suffocate these anthros. Create an explosion. I don’t really care. Just demolish this facility.”

“Hmm. Collateral damage.”

“S’all it is. They’re better off dead anyway; I doubt the doctor has anything that will restore their minds.”

Yordin nodded as he and Cale turned around and headed out of the genetics division. As soon as they were out of the room, Yordin led Cale over to one of the security rooms that the guards stored some of their equipment in and picked up two radios from a shelf. Cale looked at the radio before raising his eyebrow.

“Are you serious?”

“Hey, who gives a damn how old it is?” Yordin said. “Still works, still costs far less than those wrist doo-hickey things.”

Cale grumbled before he turned the radio on alongside Yordin. “There a private frequency we can use?”

“Switch to channel six.”

Looking down at the radio, Cale flipped between a few channels before the number on the radio’s tiny screen showed the number “6” on it. Afterwards, Cale nodded and started to walk out of the guards’ room.

“Get the employees out here. I’ll let you know when I’ve acquired my target.”

“Will do.”

As soon as Cale exited the room, he started wandering around the laboratory’s main corridor, seeking out Vogar Oblingor before he left the building or went in hiding. One of the scientists, a light blue salamander with black spots, pointed towards a service elevator that led to the lower sections of the facility. Cale headed down the path leading over to the elevator, where he found Vogar flirting with another reptile who was taller and cuter than he was. Cale caught a glimpse of him grabbing the female reptile between her legs, and she promptly punched him in his giant snout, knocking him down. The lion stood in the distance and waited for Vogar to stand himself up before shaking his head and grumbling.

“Hmph. Always so sensitive and…oh, hello, mammal.”

Cale growled. “I have a name.”

“I know, mammal.” Vogar opened his mouth and scooped out a chunk of food from between his teeth. “Since you’re here, perhaps you can accompany me down to the lower levels. I can even show you what area you’ll be guarding during your duration.”

“Fine.”

“Give me a moment.”

Vogar disappeared into a room on his left, grunting and rifling through what sounded like books and binders. Then he exited out of the room carrying a binder and nodded, leading the way. Cale followed the cronok over to the elevator and got inside before pushing the button that had an arrow on it pointing down. After pressing it, he looked down at Vogar and cautiously walked to the other side of the elevator, not wanting to be close enough to be wounded by a concealed weapon. As the elevator groaned and descended, Cale leaned against the wall and scratched his ear.

“I swear, I’m fuckin’ tempted to say you should just go ahead and kill this guy. I don’t care if we’ll only get a third of the bounty for it,” snarled Stollar over the earpiece.

Cale didn’t respond. He just sniffled and wiped his nose. After doing so, Cale watched as Vogar slowly lowered his binder and tilted it forward, before reaching up with his right hand and sticking it inside. Something lumpy was bulging in the center of the binder. Eyes wide, Cale reached for his gun, only to grunt when a tiny dart made its way into his throat. He stumbled for a short moment, and then dropped his weapon and lurched over, collapsing. The lion breathed softly as he lost feeling in his legs, followed by his arms and nearly the rest of his body. Vogar exhaled as he removed a tranquilizer gun from the binder and walked over to Cale, shaking his head.

“That’s your problem, mammal. You _thought_ you were smarter than me.”

Cale stared at Vogar and whimpered as his vision began to blur. He didn’t even feel his head hitting the floor as he passed out.


	8. The Chemist

The pain and grogginess wasn’t anything he hadn’t felt before. Still, Cale found it frustrating whenever he ended up getting drugged or hit with some kind of tranquilizer. When the lion woke up, he wasn’t surprised at all to find out that he was strapped to a table with his arms and legs chained down. The feline took a few heavy breaths before he looked to his right and spotted Vogar standing near a monitor with a smirk on his face. The lion gritted his teeth and growled, watching as Vogar’s slimy stomach gurgled as he walked over towards him. The scientist grunted as he tried to button up his red plaid shirt beneath his white lab coat, but changed his mind and kept walking forward with his gut hanging out.

“Stol…Stollar?”

Vogar dug into his pocket and pulled out Cale’s earpiece. He dropped it on the floor before stomping on it with his three-toed left foot. The cronok grunted as he stepped on the shattered pieces a few more times before exhaling.

“And how are we doing, mammal? Comfortable?”

“I’m chained to a table. And I have a name.”

Vogar nodded. “That’s irrelevant. Your species, however, now that intrigues me.”

“Are you shitting me? You got me chained down here cause I’m a mammal?”

Vogar shrugged. “Not fond of _your_ type. Don’t know who you are. Don’t want to know. And I’ve no intention of paying you money, so I may as well use you for experimentation.”

“You gonna throw me in one of those tanks with the rest of those anthros? Gonna vivisect me? Gonna dismember my body just to see how long I last?”

The cronok exhaled and rolled his eyes. “Oh. You assume I’m one of _those_ scientists. I assure you, my craft does not involve tearing apart pieces of meat for my own pleasure.”

“Then why are you doing this? You don’t even know who I am; you _just_ met me!”

Vogar let his nostrils flare before he blinked. “Oh. Right. This is the part where I explain how my daddy raped me, how my mother abused me? The part where I explain that I got bullied in school?”

“Tch! Ain’t that how it always starts? Smart, fat, socially awkward? I know you ain’t had any friends—you probably had few friends who could put up with your body odor. And don’t stand there and tell me you ever put your mouth against another person’s mouth, let alone had consensual sex.”

Vogar leaned against the table Cale was tied down to. He folded his arms and waited for a moment, staring at the feline before moving his head up and down.

“All those are facts about me, yes. But you presume that I’m some maniacal mad scientist. Truth is, I don’t care about science. I’m just good at it.”

“Wait…what? So you hate all of this?”

“I wouldn’t say ‘hate,’ but I don’t care much for it.”

“So then what’s the point in any of this?”

Vogar cleared his throat. “I was teased as a child, yes. But not because I was the nerdy fat hatchling who dreamed of building rocket ships. It was because I was the nerdy fat hatchling who liked playing with puppets.”

Cale blinked. “Puppets?”

“Yes. You know, the small, wooden dolls that are carved—”

“I know what puppets are,” Cale snapped.

“Then you know how they operate. People spend so much time crafting such beautiful pieces of art—art that is commonly ignored because this universe only cares about digital forms of entertainment. But I fell in love with them. There was something about the way one would make these tiny dolls come to life, with nothing more than a few simple strings.”

Vogar chuckled as he started wiggling his hands above Cale’s head. “Just a few flicks of your wrists, and these crafted creations start moving. I always wanted to be a puppeteer, but there’s no audience for such forms of entertainment anymore.”

“So you settled for becoming a sadistic bastard who goes around kidnapping anthros and frying their minds?”

The cronok chuckled. “Oh no, no! It’s not like that at all! You see, I still plan on living my dream! Just in a different fashion. You anthros—you’ve seen what forms you used to take on that human planet called Earth, yes?”

Cale snorted. “I’ve seen documentaries.”

“So have I! And there’s just…something placid about watching how you predators would stalk prey animals—gazelles, rabbits, elk, buffalo—and just devour them, without a care in the world. Those animals on Earth—they couldn’t help it. It was in their DNA. It was how they were born.”

“That has nothing to do with anthros.”

“That has _everything_ to do with anthros. Your race, you’re nothing but _those_ animals, those _beasts_ who lack proper sentience beyond basic animal survival. You anthros are far too self-aware, too sentient, too smart. Your race evolved…and that was a horrible mistake, one that I intend to correct.”

Cale stared at the doctor’s nasty smile for a moment before he took a huge breath and sucked on his teeth. “Pinocchio.”

Vogar laughed. “There, see, there ya go! Not so daft after all. I don’t want you to become a real boy, mammal! I wanna put the strings back on, so I can play with you. _All_ of you.”

“You mean so you can watch us tear each other apart…and tear apart anyone who opposes you.”

“If one puppet breaks, I shall make more. You have already seen dozens of them. And if people don’t want to pay me to buy my puppets, or if they outright detest them, well…no reason why I can’t have my puppets ‘interact’ with the audience.”

“Sick fuck.”

Vogar shrugged before he lifted his arm and pressed down on Cale’s chest. “Not at all. Just someone trying to become an artist. And you…you seem like a rather fine puppet. Quite a lovely body structure you have here. Well-fed, well-built, well---”

“You wanna know the best thing about us puppets, Doctor?”

“What’s that?”

“Some of us come with special parts already built in.”

Vogar raised an eyebrow when he saw Cale grimacing. He looked at the lion’s right arm and thought he saw the muscles bulging, but the structure of the arm didn’t change. It wasn’t until after Cale jerked his arm upwards and snapped off the chain that Vogar realized his right arm wasn’t real. Vogar didn’t have time to call security before Cale punched him in the mouth so hard he chipped one of his teeth and fell to the floor. Panting, Cale immediately reached over and grabbed the other chain holding his left paw down, grunting and straining with effort as he tugged on it. The chain snapped off, and the lion exhaled as he sat up and started working to break the two chains around his footpaws. Vogar, meanwhile, groaned as he stood up and started jogging towards the room’s exit.

“Vogar!” Cale grunted as he tugged on the chains again. “VOGAR YOU SON OF A BITCH!”

Before Vogar exited the room, he snarled as he turned around and looked the lion. “It’s Dr. Oblingor, you ignorant dilettante!”

Cale ignored the doctor’s words as he ripped off another chain, while the doctor stayed in the room and quickly punched in a number into a keypad. Then he pressed down on a red button, and the door slid open.

“HEY! STOP—”

The last thing Cale saw before the doctor headed out into the corridor was the cronok’s nasty grin. After the door shut, Cale heard another massive door slide open behind him, which was immediately followed by a strong musky odor. Cale turned around and noticed that the second door behind the table led into a small chamber. He saw what was inside the chamber and immediately swore and ripped off the final chain with his right paw. Just as he got off the table, a gargantuan hyena who was almost eight feet tall and clearly enhanced by some kind of drug or chemical, snarled as it stomped out the chamber and lunged towards Cale. The lion shouted as he threw himself off the table, falling on the floor and listening as the hyena flipped the table over. Cale rolled onto his back and looked at the massive beast, noticing its breasts and the fluids that were descending from the groin. Cale sniffed the air again and noticed that the beast was female. The lion grimaced as the hyena roared and stomped towards him, and he immediately stood up and started sprinting for the door.

Cale frantically looked around the room for anything he could use to defend himself. The doctor took away his gun and his earpiece was broken now. He sprinted as he hopped over a metal chair, which the hyena easily bound over, before he slid beneath another table and found himself near the sink that had several beakers on it. Instinctively, Cale smashed one of the beakers as though it were a glass bottle and turned around, where the hyena snarled and swiped her claws at Cale’s chest. The lion howled as the claws ripped his vest and left a few claw marks on his abdomen. He backed away, looking over his shoulder at the chair near one of the tables, before he backed up towards it just as the hyena charged. At the same time, Cale reached backwards and shoved the chair forward, causing the hyena to stumble against it and trip. The lion shouted as he jammed the chunk of glass in his paw into the hyena’s right eye, causing the beast to howl in agony. The beast didn’t give Cale time to remove the glass before she reached up and grabbed Cale with both of her paws. Gagging, Cale was hauled off the floor and thrust into the wall, causing some of the tiles to break off.

Cale shouted as the hyena opened her mouth wide and leaned forward, preparing to bite off Cale’s head. The lion whimpered as he thrashed his legs around and grabbed the hyena’s mandibles with his bare paws, keeping them pried open so the beast wouldn’t bite down. Still gagging and grunting, Cale started moving his right paw downwards, all while the hyena kept blasting Cale with her foul breath and snorting nastily in his face. Cale looked up and saw blood dripping from the roof of the beast’s mouth; his left paw felt like dozens of ants were biting him all at once. Still using his right paw, Cale gripped the lower mandible hard and continued to push downwards, breaking some of the teeth and causing the jaw to pop. The hyena loosened her grip, while Cale bellowed and forced his right paw down so hard that the lower row of teeth punctured the cybernetic mechanisms. Bones crunched, and the hyena whined like a beaten dog before letting go of Cale and backing away, her jaw now hanging awkwardly from her mouth. Cale fell to the floor and coughed several times, but he stayed on his footpaws as he picked up one of the metal chairs and limped back over to the hyena.

Raising the chair high, Cale bashed it against the hyena’s head multiple times, listening to her whine and howl as he started to cave her head in. The hyena lashed out at Cale, sending him hurling across the room and into the wall again. After recovering from the fall, Cale panted and headed for the door; there was no way he could kill the hyena without a proper weapon. Just as Cale reached the keypad, he yowled when the hyena swiped her claws against his back, drawing blood and ripping through the fur and vest. Seeing no other option, Cale stood near the keypad and waited for the hyena to attack again. Once she did, Cale dove towards his right, while the hyena punched the wall, breaking the keypad and short-circuiting the door. It immediately slid open with a whoosh, and Cale inhaled sharply as he got up and sprinted out into the corridor. He didn’t care which way he went; the hyena was already behind him, roaring and snarling as she ran towards him on all fours like a feral animal.

“Hey!”

“THE FUCK?!”

Two guards came out of a room on the right, both carrying what appeared to be their lunches. The second they saw Cale and the hyena, they dropped their food and went for their guns. Cale shifted over to the left and shouted as he threw himself into a small medical room. The guards fired a few shots at him, but all the bullets hit the door. Cale couldn’t see outside, but he heard more gunfire before the guards hollered and the hyena snarled. Panting and huffing, Cale stood up and wiped his forehead as he walked over to a nearby first aid kit and opened it up. Knowing he had little time, the lion took off his torn vest and pulled out a bottle of peroxide. He looked at the scars on his chest and took a deep breath as he unscrewed the cap and bit down on his right arm. Using his left paw, Cale splattered some of the peroxide onto his chest before he shut his eyes and let out a muffled scream. Then he lifted the bottle behind his back and dumped some on the wounds near his spine. Cale shrieked and dropped the bottle in pain, feeling the fluids bubbling and hissing against his wounds.

“FUCK!” the lion bellowed.

He knew it was a poor job; he needed stitches, but there was no time to suture up his wounds. So the sweating lion just took as much gauze as he could and wrapped it around his midriff. He looked at the gauze and frowned when he noticed the bleeding had slowed down, but hadn’t completely stopped.

“Fuck it; good enough,” Cale panted.

The lion put his vest back on and started ransacking the room, knocking over various containers and kits in order to find some kind of weapon to defend himself with. He crouched down and opened up a gray cabinet, where he found a small kit that had a few surgical tools inside of it. Cale took a scalpel out of the kit and listened to the carnage ensuing outside, shortly before one of the guards ran into the room, sweating and panting nervously. The shaky guard stood near the sink beside Cale, hands quivering as he held his gun.

“…Hid in here too, eh?”

“Yup,” Cale answered.

“That fucking thing won’t go down! We must’ve shot it about six times now! …Wait.”

The guard turned and looked at Cale again and noticed something was wrong. Maybe he realized that Cale was supposed to be locked up. Maybe he thought Cale was the one who let the hyena out. It didn’t matter. Cale lifted his right paw and slashed the guard’s throat open just as the reptile started aiming his weapon towards him. As the guard gurgled and coughed up blood, Cale stole the reptile’s submachine gun and pointed it at the door when two more guards tried to come inside. He held back a gasp and immediately fired, listening to the bullets soaring out of the gun and into the guards’ chests. After they fell down, Cale jogged back out into the hallway, wincing and limping a bit as he tried to ignore the scars on his chest and back. He slowly moved forward, gripping the submachine gun firmly and spinning around in the full circle, making sure no one snuck up on him. There were streams of blood splattered around the floor and walls, and Cale grimaced when he came across a limb that had been torn off someone’s body. Cale saw a pathway leading to his left and right and stopped. The path on the right led to an automatic door.

The one on his left had the wounded hyena in it, who was on the floor munching on a guard’s mutilated corpse. Even with her jaw broken, the beast was still determined to tear flesh apart with her claws and the upper row of her teeth. Cale didn’t give the beast a chance to charge at him; he aimed right between her eyes and fired. The hyena howled and roared at Cale, somehow disregarding the bullet to her head. Cale kept looking at the hyena and noticed she had several bullet holes in her body. When she tried to run forward, the beast limped and nearly tripped over her own footpaws. Cale swore as he backed away slowly, switching to semi-automatic firing and making sure every bullet he fired only hit the hyena in the head. The hyena lumbered forward and flinched repeatedly as each bullet hit her; eventually she groaned in pain and flopped onto the floor, sliding towards Cale and leaving a streak of blood in front of him. The lion stared at the vicious beast and listened to her panting softly and growling, clearly incapable of fighting any longer. Still, the lion wasn’t satisfied. He walked over to one of the guards he killed earlier and snatched a grenade from his corpse. Then he limped back over to the dying hyena, pulled the pin, and shoved the grenade into her mouth.

The hyena didn’t even try to spit it out. As Cale jogged away, he heard a muffled explosion, which was followed by various meaty thunks. There was no need to turn back around to look at the aftermath; the beast was dead. Cale returned to some of the bodies and retrieved some magazines, a handheld radio, flashbang grenades, and two more firearms: a pair of large handguns that operated on gunpowder and bullets.

“Hmph. Not plasma, but it’ll do.”

Cale switched his submachine gun to automatic fire and released the magazine, replacing it with a fresh one. The lion went back to jogging through the lower facility, seeing a door that lead into one of the primary chambers and another door that led into one of the smaller laboratories. Cale opened up the door leading into the smaller lab first and held his submachine gun. Inside he came across five scientists, all of whom were hiding from the hyena. Some of them screamed while two of them raised their paws.

“Wait, WAIT! DON’T SHOOT!”

“Where’s Vogar?”

One of the scientists stammered. “Who?”

The lion let out a sharp breath before rephrasing his question. “Dr. Oblingor. Where is he?”

“He-he went into the main office, through the fifth chamber right beside this lab!”

“Hostiles?”

“What-what hostiles? There aren’t—”

Cale shot the scientist in the forehead, causing the other four to shriek.

“Hostiles? Between here and the doctor’s office?”

“I dunno! Uh, ten, maybe a dozen!” another scientist screamed.

“Mm.”

Cale kept staring at the scientists, his finger grazing the trigger as he growled in his throat.

“Please…we didn’t-we didn’t do anything! We’re just scientists! We came here—”

Cale unloaded his gun into the remaining scientists. He blinked as he listened to their bodies fall onto the floor, and then he exited the laboratory and shut the door. After leaving, the lion grabbed the radio he stole and switched over to channel six.

“Yordin.”

“Fuck me—where the hell you been?! Haven’t heard from you in over an hour!”

“Vogar captured me, but I escaped. It’s gonna take a little longer to extract the target.”

“None of the guards up here are on alert.”

“Prolly cause the doctor wants this kept secret. Go ahead and start evacuating the building; I’ll let you know when I’ve finished my mission.”

“You got thirty minutes. Then I’m burning all this shit to the ground.”

“Understood.”

Cale set his radio back against his trousers before he stepped outside of the laboratory and pressed his back against the wall. He noticed that the door had a paw print reader right next to it and blinked. So the lion returned to the laboratory and grabbed one of the scientists’ bodies. Grunting and gritting his teeth, the lion hauled the body over his shoulder and brought it over to the scanner, where he shoved the scientist’s limp paw against it and listened to the device scan the paw. After it glowed green, the doors slid open, and Cale tossed the body aside. There was no gunfire from the chamber inside, but Cale already knew what was waiting for him. Instead of charging out, he crouched down near the wall, leaned forward towards some debris, and picked up a piece of broken glass. He held up the large shard, grimacing when he tried to use its reflection to see into the chamber. But the reflection was blurry; he couldn’t get a proper look at the whole room.

“Damn it,” Cale snarled, tossing the glass aside.

Taking a deep breath, Cale sifted through his pockets and took out a flashbang and a smoke grenade. He removed the pin on the smoke grenade first, tossing it into the chamber and listening to the gas hiss from the sphere. The lion knew that most of the guards had gasmasks, but there was no way to shield their eyes. So Cale tossed the flashbang in next, and heard someone exclaim after the second grenade exploded. Inhaling deeply, Cale stood up and charged into the room, stomping against the metal panels and sprinting towards the first guards he could see. Two of them were staggered, leaning against a railing and shaking their heads. Cale shot both of them in the skull before spotting a third guard with his back turned. The lion snarled as he reached behind him and snapped his neck, before he held onto him and used his body as a shield. He still had no idea how big the room was or where all the hostiles were; at best, he could make out faint objects in the smoke. Two giant barrels were in the center of the room; up above him was some kind of crane mechanism that had a claw attached to it, most likely to pick up crates and barrels. And high above the chamber were a set of catwalks on the left and right side.

A sniper was on each catwalk.

Eyes wide, Cale blindly fired at the sniper on the right catwalk; he shot him down, his body spewing blood all over the rails. The sniper on the left, however, spotted Cale and fired. Cale shouted as the sniper’s bullet soared into the body he was carrying, but the force of the impact knocked him backwards. Cale shoved the body off of him before immediately rolling towards a massive metal crate and taking cover behind it. Some of the smoke was dissipating, giving Cale a better view of the environment around him. The chamber was mostly vacant, but had a few crates and barrels inside of it; Cale assumed it was one of the shipping areas. There were giant holes in the walls that the crane could weave through that led to separate chambers, presumably so the crane operator could haul all the heavy barrels and crates into other parts of the facility. Cale looked up at the catwalks on his left side, glad he didn’t see the sniper over there. He was just about to peek around the corner of the container he was concealed behind when he heard a metallic clink.

Cale swore as he picked up the grenade and hurled it back towards the crowd of guards. Someone swore, moments before the grenade exploded, sending fragments of charred metal into the air. Cale used the explosion as cover and sprinted forward, hoping to reach the next area of cover before the guards spotted him. The sniper fired at him, narrowly missing the feline’s tail, just as Cale came across a giant blue barrel. Panting, Cale shot up at the sniper, but he rolled out of the way and changed position. Cale looked at the guards on the bottom floor and could see that two of them had been blown apart by the grenade. He was just about to fire at them when he heard his submachine gun click.

“Fuck,” Cale swore, dropping his magazine.

One of the guards sprinted towards Cale as he began to reload, carrying a knife. The thorny devil reached Cale before the lion could put the magazine back into his gun, forcing him to fight defensively. The thorny devil slashed his knife at Cale’s body, trying to cut his stomach or chest open. Cale looked out the corner of his eye and saw the sniper taking aim again, waiting for the thorny devil to get him into a corner. None of the guards on the floor were firing; they didn’t want to take the chance of killing one of their own men. Cale ducked and weaved around the knife, hearing the blade slicing through the air as the prickly lizard panted. Then the thorny devil shouted as he jabbed the knife forward, trying to hit Cale’s gut. Cale reacted quickly, grabbing the lizard’s entire arm and shoving him backwards into the very same corner he had almost been shoved into. The sniper instinctively pulled the trigger, hitting the thorny devil in the side of his head.

“FUCK!”

The remaining four guards on the floor opened fired simultaneously, causing Cale to yowl when one of the bullets hit him in the abdomen. The lion shouted as he threw himself behind one of the crates, panting heavily as he felt blood running down his sides. Gritting his teeth, Cale held his wound before he heard something metal clinking against the floor. Already knowing what the object was, Cale looked left and right before finding the round, green orb lying on the floor. The lion shouted as he lunged for the grenade and hurled it back to the remaining four guards, listening to two of them scream. As the grenade exploded, Cale rolled out from cover, seconds before the sniper fired again, the bullet ricocheting off the metal floor. Huffing deeply, Cale looked up at the catwalks where the second sniper was and finished reloading his submachine gun. He rolled forwards again before crouching down and shooting erratically at the sniper’s location. The sniper howled in pain, and Cale exhaled when he heard the body clatter to the metal platform. His relief was short lived, however, when the remaining two guards started shooting at Cale and approaching him.

The lion screamed as he threw himself over one of the metal crates and hid again. Panting and wincing as he felt pain in his midriff, the lion took a huge breath and looked around for anything he could use to defend himself. He slowly rose from cover, only to scream and crouch back down when several bullets were fired in his direction. The feline swore but got a good fix on where the guards were; both of them were crouched down in the corner near some of the other dead guards. Seeing no other option, Cale removed the magazine from his gun before firing a bullet from the chamber. The gun clicked several times, and Cale swore again once he realized he was empty. Knowing the guards heard him, he stayed very still, listening for their footsteps. Taking a risk, Cale shoved the magazine he just ejected back into his gun and fired blindly over the top of the obstruction until his gun was empty. Someone screamed, and Cale heard two bodies fall onto the floor. He stood straight up and surveyed the scene. The final guards who tried to kill him were lying on the floor not moving. Everyone else in the area was dead as far as he could tell.

It wasn’t until after Cale finished taking several breaths that he felt weak, and his legs began to give. The battered and scarred lion dropped his submachine gun as he looked down at his body. The wounds he received from the hyena were still bleeding—albeit slowly—and now he had a bullet in his torso, not far from his kidney. Cale shook his head and snarled, before he started to limp towards the automatic door leading to the doctor’s office.

_________________________________________________

As soon as the door slid open, Cale lifted one of his handguns and pointed it at Vogar. The cronok nonchalantly spun his chair around and exhaled as he looked at Cale.

“Figures. Was fun watching you though.”

Cale stared at Vogar with confusion, and the doctor rolled his chair out the way to reveal the monitor that he was looking at. The screen occasionally changed images every now and then, showing the viewpoints of different cameras in different chambers and corridors. Vogar stood out of his chair and exhaled as he scratched his chin.

“Hmm…what to do now,” Vogar wondered.

“You…” Cale spat blood on the floor and wheezed. “You’re comin’ with me. I need you alive but…but I don’t care what condition you’re in.”

“Of course. Threaten me. Torture me. Put me on one of my own experimentation tables and extract my beating heart from my chest. These are all understandable options.”

The doctor slowly walked over to one of the monitors hanging from the wall and turned it on. It emitted static at first, but then Vogar switched to different channels, and Cale squinted when the monitor stopped on a channel revealing a small town that was being stormed by anthros similar to the ones locked up in Vogar’s cages.

“…The fuck is this?”

“Thurgor Town. Population of around eight thousand. Maybe a bit more. Police force is highly incompetent. I’m sure the Reptilian Forces will arrive at some point to assist the police, but the damage will be done by then.”

Cale kept looking at the screen. Someone was filming from a moving vehicle—possibly a helicopter—and zooming in towards the ground. Two feral alligators were tearing their way inside of a car, dragging out the occupants and ripping their heads off. A colossal, naked bearded dragon was sprinting away from a gas station attendant who was firing a shotgun at him, seconds before the attendant was blindsided by an iguana who tackled him from behind and tore him in half. The lion grimaced when he saw one of the feral creatures raping someone in the middle of the street while some children were trying to flee from the carnage.

“What did you do?” Cale snarled.

Vogar rubbed his nose. “Irrelevant. What is relevant is what _you_ will do. This town won’t survive. Not without additional help. By the time the Reptilian Forces show up, most of the population will be decimated.”

Cale pointed his gun at Vogar again and snarled. “You son of a bitch.”

Vogar smirked. “It’s very simple, mammal. I know of a way you can stop this carnage. I have produced a chemical that can alter anthros’ DNA and enhance their skills in combat. You’ll be much faster, much stronger—you’ll be able to run into that town and vanquish all of the threats there.”

Cale huffed and took several deep breaths before he dropped his gun, feeling lightheaded and weak. The lion leaned over against one of the metal tables and grabbed his stomach where the bullet tore through his flesh. Vogar chuckled as he walked over to the feline, dragging his thick tail against the floor.

“You are _far_ too weak to dismantle the threat in your current state. My chemical can heal your wounds, make you taller, make you feel like a whole new anthro. It’ll be glorious. Trust me; I want to help you.”

“Fuck…fuck you. I’m not your goddamn guinea pig.”

Vogar blinked. “I am just one alien, mammal. There are _thousands_ of souls in that town. I know how you soldiers operate. And yes, judging by your, err, ‘display’ earlier, clearly you are or were in the military. What was that confounded phrase you military personnel invented? No man gets left behind? …Hmph. Blasphemous. Only _important_ men should be preserved.”

Cale exhaled and closed his eyes. “If I do this…what happens to you?”

“I have other facilities under construction. While you take on your new form, I shall quietly depart to a disclosed location where—”

“—You’ll keep making those fucking monsters you showed me.”

Vogar chuckled as he reached over and lightly tapped Cale’s left cheek. “So you understand my craft. I can afford to lose a few crates’ worth of puppets. I can afford having a few puppets destroyed in Thurgor Town. I can even afford to transform you into one of my biggest puppets. You’re all just playthings…understand? It doesn’t matter how many of you I destroy because…well. I can make more. This universe needs _me_ , not you, mammal.”

Cale felt like he was about to pass out. He kept staring at the cronok, before he looked up at the monitor again and witnessed the various citizens in the town who were being torn apart or raped in the streets. Defeated, Cale stood up straight and nodded as he looked down at Vogar.

“Okay…I’ll do it.”

“Excellent! You won’t regret it, mammal. I assure you. Your brain will still be intact, along with your memories and personality. You won’t turn into _those_ kinds of beasts in the street.”

“Don’t act like you suddenly give a damn about me.”

“But I do, mammal! I do! I don’t want my toy to break too early!”

Cale didn’t say anything to Vogar. He kept his mouth shut as he followed the doctor to the door and was led out into the corridor. As he limped his way over behind the cronok, Cale could see on his left and right more rooms that had the same feral animals caged inside of them, locked behind seemingly unbreakable windows. Even though the material within each window was translucent, he could see dark figures skittering about and recognized some of the silhouettes. Cale ignored them and kept walking, where he and Vogar arrived on a catwalk above one of the main labs. The lion looked down and could see that barrels of chemicals were still planted around the floors and hadn’t moved yet. Wincing, Cale held his midriff and blinked.

“So how you gonna do it? Insecticide…some kind of phosphorus?”

“Hmm?”

“You know what I’m talkin’ about. You and…you and your ‘business’ partner…the Baron.”

Vogar chuckled as he opened another automatic door leading into an observation room that was currently empty. “Oh, so _that’s_ why you’re here. Shame. Perhaps if you arrived a couple days sooner, you would’ve been able to stop us from shipping off the chemicals.”

_Fuck_ , Cale thought. 

“What I used and how I used it does not matter. All I know is that my part is done, so now I can go back to doing what I do best—well, as soon as I’m done with you, of course.”

Cale looked around the observation room as Vogar walked over to one of the computers. He spotted a few gasmasks hanging up near the door on hooks, most likely in case of contamination breaches, along with a few clipboards and a hammer lying around on a desk. The lion crept behind Vogar as he started inputting keys into the system.

“Is this…transformation…” Cale grunted. “Is it lethal? Painful?”

“Painful, yes. Lethal, no. It only reacts to the body once inhaled, and then morphs your body from the inside out.”

“How long will it take?”

“Few minutes. I must warn you, it’s not one hundred percent just yet. Last time, I tested it on five hundred subjects. Only twelve survived.”

Scowling, Cale formed a fist with his right paw as Vogar finished activating the chemical and started a countdown.

“But I’m sure you’ll be—”

Cale punched Vogar in the face. The obese cronok shouted as his head jerked backwards, banging into the computer monitor. Snarling, Cale kicked the cronok in the groin before punching him down to the floor. As Vogar panted and started to cough, Cale lifted his left footpaw and stomped on his head several times, listening as some of the bones in his jaw cracked. He didn’t stop until Vogar howled in pain and Cale saw a few teeth dribbling out of his mouth, along with some of his green blood. Vogar tried to stand back up, but he was too disoriented from the lion’s surprise assault. While the doctor was stunned, Cale limped over and snatched a gasmask from one of the hooks, putting it on and exhaling as his breathing became much more audible. Then he grabbed the hammer from the table and started to strike it against one of the windows overseeing the testing chamber that Vogar used to create a dozen anthro super soldiers. When Vogar finally got to his feet, the glass shattered. It didn’t take Vogar long to discover Cale’s plan, and his eyes widened as he jogged back over to the monitor and tried to deactivate the computer. But Cale grabbed him from behind and started to drag him away from the controls.

“Wait! WAIT! YOU DON’T KNOW WHAT YOU’RE DOING!”

“Yes, I do,” Cale said, his voice muffled by the gasmask.

Cale shoved Vogar towards the broken window, his back facing the windowless pane.

“PLEASE! This doesn’t work on cronoks; it’s only designed for anthros!”

Cale shrugged. “Twelve out of five hundred. I’m sure you’ll be fine,” the lion sneered.

Then the lion pushed Vogar through the broken window, and the scientist screamed as he tumbled several feet into the testing chamber with a metallic thud. Cale stood in the observation room and waited patiently as the timer on the computer finished, and began to release a dark blue mist into the chamber. Cale could see Vogar whimpering as he got to his feet, only for him to start hollering seconds later. Still curious to see what would happen, Cale kept watching, waiting for the mist to clear up. Once it did, Vogar began to whimper and convulse, his plump stomach gurgling and churning while the rest of his body began to shift. The cronok panted as he felt a burning itch spreading around his body and could hear something sizzling in his earholes. Hysterical, Vogar started scratching around his body, digging his claws against his scales so hard that he was drawing blood. When Vogar felt residue building up beneath his claws, he looked at his hands and shrieked. His scales were falling off.

“No…NO!”

Vogar tore his clothes off his body, sobbing and looking at the scales around his fat gut, on his arms, and on his legs. All the scales were becoming flaky and shedding from his body. But instead of revealing a new, smoother body underneath, what Cale saw was a muddy, slimy coating of brown fluids that were bubbling against Vogar’s body. Small boils were growing around his back and stomach; Vogar touched one of them and it popped, releasing yellow pus that dripped down his body. The itching didn’t stop though, and the cronok found himself screaming hysterically as he kept scratching himself, popping more boils that had grown on his body. When Vogar felt the tips of his fingers stinging, he stopped scratching and looked at them again. Half of his claws had broken off, and the other half was sliding right off his fingers. Whimpering, Vogar took a few steps forwards and heard several thunks behind him. Cale noticed that the bony plates lined from Vogar’s scalp and moving down to his tail had popped out, revealing internal flesh that had decayed and turned brown.

“WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME?!” Vogar roared as he looked up at Cale.

But the lion just grinned and kept watching. Vogar opened his mouth wide as he vomited all over the floor, his bile dark green and littered with yellow chunks. As the cronok finished purging his stomach’s content, he coughed and started spitting on the floor. Vogar sobbed again when he felt his gums deteriorating; within the pools of saliva were his teeth, all of which had loosened from the gums and fell out his mouth. His voice hoarse, Vogar moaned as he stood up and tried to regain his composure. But just as he was beginning to, the vision in his left eye went dark, and something small and wet plopped on the floor.

Cale looked away from the testing chamber, not wanting to see what would happen from that point forward.

__________________________________

Yordin turned and looked at the elevator once he heard the doors sliding open. He pointed his weapon at the sliding doors and rushed forward once he saw Cale’s face.

“Damn, Cale. The fuck—HOLY SHIT!”

On his knees and hands beside Cale was a putrid, bubbling beast who was dripping brown fluids all over the floor. The beast lifted his head and moaned, and Yordin nearly vomited when he noticed the beast’s teeth were all missing, and his eyes had been scooped out of their sockets.

“Pain…h…help…help…me…”

The beast moaned as he slowly lifted his right hand, the fingers sloppy with brown sludge that dripped from them.

“Help…me…”

“The fuck did you do?!” Yordin asked.

Cale took a few deep breaths before he removed his gasmask and limped out of the elevator. He only made it a few steps before he leaned against the wall and let out a weak laugh.

“I…I gave…I decided to play scientist…used Vogar as my ‘test subject.’”

Cale turned and grinned evilly at Yordin. “D’you like it?”

Yordin stared at Cale with wide eyes before turning and looking at Vogar again. The deformed alien moaned as he slowly stood up, his legs shaking and his immense gut sloshing and emitting more pus-filled boils. The crocodile looked back at Cale before huffing and shaking his head.

“Fuck it. Couldn’t have happened to a bigger asshole. Just… _damn_ , Cale.”

The lion exhaled. “Go…go get a first aid kit.”

“Yeah, yeah, hold on.”

Cale stayed still before he slid down and sat on the floor. He took his vest off and laid it on the floor before looking at the small hole in the side of his abdomen. It wasn’t bleeding as much as before, but he knew it needed to be sealed before he could continue. Once Yordin came back with the kit, he bent down and started surveying the injury.

“Lucky fucker. Went through. Guess I don’t gotta dig into your bones to scrape out the bullet.”

“How lovely.”

“Just shut up and stay still.”

Cale looked down at his wound as Yordin poured peroxide onto two napkins and pressed both of them against the entry and exit wound. The lion’s back stiffened and he snarled in pain as the stinging sensation burned through his midriff, but Yordin didn’t stop applying pressure until he realized the bleeding had stopped.

“Huh…hit you near the kidney, not in the chest. …Eh, fuck it. Gauze should be good enough; shouldn’t have to worry about a collapsed lung.”

Cale closed his eyes as Yordin applied the gauze around his abdomen again, covering up the rest of the wounds he also received from the hyena. As Yordin patched up Cale, he looked in the corridor and noticed a few guards lying on the floor.

“Guess the guards gave you trouble.”

“Tch! Dumb fuckers ain’t know when to leave. Told everyone there was a gas leak and to go home ‘til it cleared up. Lotta the scientists were happy to leave. Guards started asking questions. I lost my patience.”

“Mm. Hey…these radios. They synched up with police frequencies?”

“Tch! Kinda dumbass question—no. It’s only for lab personnel. Why?”

“Because apparently…the good doctor thought it’d be a good idea to release some of those feral anthros out into a populated town…Thurgor Town.”

Yordin stopped patching up the wound and stared at Cale. “You’re shitting me.”

Cale shook his head. “Gave me an option: either take the risk of becoming a super soldier, at the cost of letting Vogar go free, or…do what I essentially did to him.”

Snorting, Yordin shook his head and resumed applying first aid. “Almost got kicked out of the army for that shit. Came across some genocidal warlord. Had one of them dead man’s switches. Said he set some bombs inside of a school, and if we didn’t let him go to his helicopter so he could fly out to his safehouse, he’d set ‘em off. Captain said we had to let him go…couldn’t do it. I knew that weasely fucker would just go back to setting off more bombs and killing more innocents if we let him go. So I took out my handgun and shot him ‘tween the eyes.”

“And you were…dishonorably discharged for sanctioning dozens of kids’ deaths.”

“Nah, I was a lucky fuck. Turns out the warlord was bluffing. He didn’t set up any bombs; he was just hoping we’d be dumb enough to let him go. Still…Captain gave me lots of shit for that. But I made the right call. Bombs or not, I woulda shot that asshole again if I needed to. And I’m sure you would’ve thrown the doctor into that testing chamber even if he hadn’t put a town in jeopardy.”

“Difference here is…well. Your target was bluffing. Mine wasn’t.”

Yordin shrugged. “You’re too wounded to fight. I’m just one anthro. Cops and the Reptilian Forces will have to take care of it. We go down there, those feral anthros will tear us to shreds.”

“…Suppose that’s just how it is.”

Once Yordin finished sealing the gunshot wound, he sat down next to Cale before looking over at Vogar, who had fallen onto his belly and was breathing hoarsely. As Cale turned and stared at Vogar, he covered his face with one paw and broke out into uncontrollable laughter. Yordin looked at the wounded lion and snorted.

“Hey. Dumb fuck. You all tore up; the fuck’s so funny? Surprised you didn’t die on the way back up here.”

Sighing and lowering his paw, Cale shook his head and sucked on his teeth. “What…what was your worse experience? In the army?”

“Finding out that a member in my unit became a tranny while she was on leave. I mean…s’a little ‘awkward’ when you find out that ‘she’ is now ‘he,’ and ‘he’ has a voice as deep as yours.”

“Now you’re just fuckin’ with me.”

Yordin chuckled before smirking at the lion. “You ever see them trannies in the shower? Y’know, their ‘parts’ an’ shit? Don’t sit there and tell me it ain’t disturbing. I mean, at least you know what gender you are; I can respect you for that.”

“I’m being serious.”

“I’m bein’ serious too! S’like someone bit off the tip of a hot dog and glued it down there!”

Cale chuckled and rubbed his eyes. “That’s horrible.”

“Yeah. I actually thought about asking her—him—how he pees, but—”

“You’ve seen so much shit in the army that the only thing you can remember that disturbed you was glancing at a transgender’s groin in the shower.”

Yordin shrugged. “Eh. When you see a terrorist set off a bomb in a baby’s stroller—with the baby still inside—nothing of that nature bugs you anymore.”

“So…so then why does _this_ shock me?”

“Because you haven’t seen enough baby parts flying in the air. Just rig some strollers with C-4; you’ll get used to it afterwards. Or hey, just expose yourself to more breaking news announcements, like that Universal Gardens Massacre back in ’98. What was it, ‘bout three hundred dead?”

“Over four hundred.”

“Eh.” Yordin shrugged again before standing up. “Well. You got your target. Employees are safe. There’s a town several miles away in peril, but not like we can do shit to help out there without getting killed ourselves. Mission accomplished, s’far as I can tell.”

“…Not exactly.”

____________________________

Yordin drove away from the massive facility, which was now in flames after Cale and Yordin set off a series of explosions and set multiple fires in the building. In the back of the pickup truck was Vogar himself, the eyeless, toothless, decaying blob of brown muck breathing hoarsely and occasionally running his fingers against his pudge, popping more boils as the burning, itching sensation continued to spread. Cale didn’t say a word to Yordin as he drove back to his home, and instead lost consciousness on the ride back. Once Yordin stopped his truck, he woke up Cale and told him to hurry up and get Vogar out the bed of his truck. Cale dragged the deformed cronok off the vehicle, while Yordin said his goodbyes and retreated into his cabin. After the crocodile was gone, Cale exhaled as he dragged Vogar over to where he landed his spaceship, which was concealed deep within the swamp. Wordlessly, Cale lowered the ramp beneath the dropship and guided Vogar onto it before entering behind him.

Then Cale raised the ramp and headed into the cockpit so he could start up the engine and fly out of Demyl Swamp.


	9. The Partner

“Okay, good. Thank you,” Kolson said.

The goat ended the call on his FCD before lowering his arm and huffing with indignation. He leaned against the table in the middle of the office and looked over at the Baron, who was sitting down at his desk looking at the two clocks near his computer. The old-fashioned wooden one was still ticking properly, while the digital clock’s numbers had faded and weren’t displaying the time anymore. The Baron picked up his digital clock and tapped it a few times before turning it upside-down and looking at the small opening where the batteries were supposed to go in. Kolson glared at the fox before clearing his throat.

“Baron?”

“Yes. I am listening to you, Kolson.”

“You sure you’re not paying more attention to your toy?”

“Toys are for children. They’re created to ease adolescent minds, to distract them from learning, from enduring life, from dealing with actual problems. This is a machine, Kolson.”

“I’m aware of what it is.”

“No, you are not. This machine is not working. I know how it functions. I know how to make it run. I know of all its internal components, all the screws, all the tiny, significant pieces…”

Baron slammed the clock down on his desk with frustration before standing up out of his chair, barring his teeth at Kolson.

“And it. Is not. _Working_.”

Kolson shrugged. “Fix it.”

“That’s what makes this so hysterical, Kolson. I don’t know how.”

“Maybe it just ran out of juice.”

“Machines do not ‘run out of juice,’ Kolson. If they break, it is because something is interfering with its mechanism. If they ‘run out of juice,’ it’s because they need more fuel, or batteries, or electricity. But this clock here? I don’t see _anything_ wrong with its mechanisms. And I just put in new, fully-charged batteries. And it is not working.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

Baron walked in front of his desk and began to pace left and right in front of Kolson, rubbing his paws together. “How long has our organization been running?”

“Over a decade now.”

“Mm-hmm. And how many problems have we faced?”

“I’ve lost count.”

“Six hundred and twenty-seven. And these are simply the major difficulties we’ve come across—rival cartels, battling mercenary firms, space pirates, corrupt police officers trying to dismantle our organization, and so on. Now…how many of these crises have we successfully dealt with?”

“I’ve lost count.”

“Six hundred and twenty-seven.” Baron stopped walking and stared at Kolson, letting out a frustrated breath. “So Ms. Dillvor. I’m assuming you’ve confirmed that she’s been captured.”

“She’s in prison now. There’s gonna be a trial and all that nonsense, but it’s not looking good. I’ve lost contact with Dr. Oblingor as well.”

“So he’s either dead or in prison too.”

“Most likely.”

Baron chuckled softly, pushing his fingers together as a small smile appeared on his fuzzy face. “And we don’t know how this happened yet.”

“All we know is that some lion named Cale Tomlik is involved. Milz’s friend, Shannon, filed a report to the police; said he tied her up, shot her, and ‘arrested’ Milz before leaving the planet.”

“So you’re telling me that this insignificant pebble fell into the gears of my machine. And now this contraption is breaking down. And we don’t know where to find it.”

“…Huh…I see why that broken clock is infuriating you now.”

“Precisely.” The Baron leaned against the table in the center of the room before folding his arms. He noticed a few strands of fur on his left sleeve and wiped it off before glancing at Kolson again. “Did Dr. Oblingor deliver the shipment to you yet?”

“It’s being sent my way now.”

“What about Gobor?”

“Don’t give a shit. Last time I visited Gobor, he was ‘teaching’ some pup about sex ed.”

“I understand your frustrations with Gobor and Dr. Oblingor—”

“No, you don’t, Baron,” Kolson snarled. “I’ve seen Dr. Oblingor treating full-grown anthros—fully developed anthros like you and me—no different from wild, brainless animals that he feeds raw meat to inside of some pen! And Gobor is wasting his time raping and killing as many people as he can in Knochen City just because he fucking can! You got on my ass over letting Franz retire, but you don’t say a fuckin’ thing to either of them?”

“The difference here is that Gobor and Dr. Oblingor ensure that none of their personal businesses interfere with the organization. I don’t care what any of you do in your spare time so long as it doesn’t damage the cartel.”

“Did it occur to you that what Gobor is doing has drawn attention to us? The dog’s a convicted serial rapist for fuck’s sake!”

“I am not saying that I like Dr. Oblingor or Gobor Grizzer. I’m not saying I even enjoy their company. But when I assign them a task, they get it done. Until they start failing these tasks, I’ve no intention of removing them from the organization. And at least with them, if one of their lackeys fails them or decides to ‘retire,’ they deal with that problem using a permanent solution.”

“I told you, Baron. Franz will keep his mouth shut. There haven’t even been reports that he’s been found yet! He probably fucked off to a whole ‘nother planet!”

“Liabilities. That is all I am saying, Kolson. A single tear in a sweater can ruin the entire shirt.”

“Enough with these fucking metaphors,” the goat snarled. “You want me to have Dillvor and Gaines killed; I got it.”

“Gaines, absolutely. We can assume he’s the one who gave up Milz, and he’s not valuable anymore. Have some of Gobor’s guys take care of him; they’re all in the same correctional facility.”

“What about Milz?”

Baron wagged his tail for a moment and folded his arms. He grumbled to himself before flicking some fur off his sleeve again. “Keep her alive. We’ve no idea what her exact situation is; she could still be an asset to us.”

“So, what, stage a prison break?”

“No. Best she stays locked up; it’ll keep attention away from us.”

“And if she’s beaten to death by some corrupt guard, or raped by other prisoners, or gets a shiv in her throat?”

“Then we’ll lose an asset, and I’ll find another.”

Kolson huffed and scratched around his horns. “It’s really that simple, huh?”

“You can’t run a business like this and have a personal life. Why do you think none of us are married or have children?”

“Hmph. Sure, if you say so.”

Baron glared at Kolson, his blue eyes bearing down on the goat. “You said Dr. Oblingor shipped the gas to you before he went MIA?”

“That’s correct.”

“Then return to your ‘posse’ and started planning the distributions. If this Tomlik is on our tail, we may have to speed up our plans.”

“Maybe we should adjust our plans a bit, in case something goes wrong?”

Baron shook his head. “The poison has been made. The shipment’s on its way. Even if we lose Gobor, it won’t matter. Everything falls onto us now. Failure is unacceptable, you understand?”

Kolson nodded. “Understood, Baron.”

“Good. Now leave.”

Kolson didn’t say anything else. He glared at the fox for a moment before turning around and heading for the exit. As soon as he stepped outside of the Baron’s office, the arctic fox turned around and looked at his digital clock again. He grabbed the small device and shook it next to his left ear. Nothing was loose. Nothing had been dislodged. And yet, it still refused to work. As if it were a piece of litter, Baron tossed it on the floor and listened to it clatter, before looking at the old-fashioned clock still ticking on his desk.

_At least this still works_ , the fox thought.

__________________________________________

Cale tossed the wooden trinket on the table in front of Vogar. The eyeless beast let out a long breath, rancid saliva dripping from his slimy maw as he listened to the toy bouncing on the metal structure. The lion sat down across from Vogar in the spaceship’s lunchroom, listening to his ship’s engines rumbling as he headed over to Schrader’s Space Station once more. His entire body was still sore and stinging from the fight he got into and the bullet hole that went through his abdomen, but he wasn’t complaining. All Cale did was double his dosage of the pills he had been taking and consumed more of the blue potion Dr. Goode prescribed him. As Vogar moved his hands forward, blindly examining the wooden trinket on the table, Cale put his paws up to his face and groaned, feeling exhausted.

_______________________________________

_And then he set his paws back down onto the table. Obviously the beast across from him was going to worry now. Obviously he would start being overprotective. Obviously he would be looking out for his safety. But he didn’t want that. Cale looked up at Keevonu and saw that his eyes were watering._

_“And they said it’s lethal?”_

_Cale chuckled. “It’s a pathogen commonly used for creating chemical weapons. Sounds lethal to me.”_

_“And…and you were one of the people exposed…”_

_Cale shrugged. “Shit happens.”_

_“Whaddya mean, ‘shit happens’? This could kill you, Cale! It’s killing you right now; this pathogen is gonna tear your body apart organ by organ unless they find a cure!”_

_“Yup.”_

_Keevonu sobbed and looked away, trying and failing to hold back his tears. The lion kept staring at the snow leopard and frowned._

_“Whaddya want me to say, Drake? That I fucked up? Okay, I fucked up. That you should’ve been with me? Okay, you should’ve been with me. That I approached the situation horribly? …I’ll say whatever you want me to say if it’ll make you feel better.”_

_“I don’t care about that,” Keevonu said, his voice cracking. “Just…did they say how long it’ll be? Or is-is there some kind of vaccine you could use?”_

_“They gave me some pills, steroids most likely. And this sludge that’s supposed to settle my heart.”_

_“…Did they tell you how much time you have?”_

_Cale shrugged. “Some of the people involved in the explosion died instantly. Others only lasted about twenty-four hours. I wasn’t near the explosion itself; I was only exposed to the pathogen. Apparently I’m one of the lucky ones.”_

_Keevonu scoffed. “Yeah, ‘lucky.’ And I’m sure you just got a pat on the back when you bagged the asshole who caused this.”_

_The lion shrugged again. “‘Thank you for your valiant efforts. We’re sorry for what happened to you, but we’ll do the best we can to make sure we find a cure. Your actions have saved the lives of millions; be proud of what you did.’ Hmph…sound familiar?”_

_“May as well have been reading off a fuckin’ teleprompter…”_

_Neither feline said anything for a while. Cale wasn’t sure when it finally hit Keevonu, but it did hit him. The snow leopard rubbed his face a few times before he broke down into a fit of crying, unable to stop himself from sniffling as tears constantly ran down his face. Cale didn’t know how he should’ve responded. He knew he could’ve walked over to Keevonu and hugged him, but that felt no different from what the IGPA officers and medical workers told him after he had been exposed: hollow and programmed. He thought about giving the snow leopard some time alone, but something told Cale that Keevonu wanted to spend as much time with him as possible, especially now that he was dying. But Cale just didn’t know what to do. So he sat still as he stared at Keevonu, unsure of what he could do to console him._

___________________________________________

Cale didn’t even realize that tears had run down his face until he noticed his vision had blurred. Confused, the lion reached up and wiped the tears from his face before he sniffled and blinked a few times. The deformed cronok in front of him was still probing the wooden item on the table, hissing and wheezing as he felt around the entity’s tiny wooden legs, arms, and head. The cronok paused for a moment, a big bubble emerging from his open maw and silently popping. Then he stood the trinket up and gurgled.

“Puh…pup…pet?”

Vogar felt around the trinket again. He had played with so many of them that he recognized the construction of hundreds of puppets just by groping them. There were no strings attached to the toy, but Vogar was still able to stand it up. He ran his claw-less, slimy brown fingers against the toy’s head before emitting a high-pitched mewling sound.

“Pup…pet. …Puppet!”

Vogar emitted a gurgled giggling sound as he stood the puppet up and started to move the tiny arms around, bending and wiggling them slowly. Then he moved the legs forward, grasping the puppet to make it walk as best as he could. Cale just stared at the mutated cronok, surprised at how quickly he regressed to a childlike state. Maybe the scientist realized there was nothing left for him, and all he had was the tiny puppet Cale presented to him. Maybe he really was a young hatchling who was trying to pass himself off as a grown reptile, when he was really just a child still obsessed with toys. Cale wasn’t sure. But as the various thoughts went through his head, he couldn’t help but smirk widely at what he intended on doing next. As the cronok kept giggling, Cale reached forward and grabbed the puppet, prying it out of Vogar’s messy hands. He listened to the cronok whine like a toddler who had his cookie stolen from him. Cale examined the puppet for a moment, blinking and admiring the craftsmanship. Then, with his right artificial paw around the body, and his left paw grasping the wooden head, Cale squeezed. He listened as the puppet crunched and snapped. And then he twisted his paw, and bits of the puppet fell off. Cale used his left paw to tear off the head, and he exhaled.

Vogar stayed silent as he listened to the puppet getting crushed. Seconds later, Cale tossed the puppet into Vogar’s face, watching as the torn contraption bounced off the snout and plopped on the table. Vogar whimpered gently as he inspected the puppet and felt the tiny wooden flakes around the table. Even without his eyes, Vogar knew that the puppet was destroyed. Both beasts sat in silence and kept listening to the engine rumbling, and Vogar’s hissing and wheezing as he struggled to breathe using his shrunken lungs. Then he lifted his head, his hollow eye sockets pointed in Cale’s direction.

“N…nu…name…name.”

“Vogar Oblingor. You were—”

“Doc… _Doctor_ …doc…tor…” Vogar paused to wheeze. “It…is…doc…tor…”

“Mkay, _Vogar_.”

Vogar tried to snarl, but he ended up emitting a bubbling noise as brown, soupy fluids dribbled from his maw. He spread his hands around the table before wheezing again.

“You…your…name…”

“Cale Tomlik. I’m the guy who captured your ass. S’all you need to know.”

“Kill…kill…kill…you…”

Cale shook his head. “No. You’re done, Doctor. Your experiments, your dealings with the Cartel, your obsession with puppets—it’s all been terminated. You understand?”

“No…no…Cale…Tomlik…remember.” Another bubble emerged from Vogar’s maw and popped. “Remember…name…remember…will find…you…will kill…you…”

“You had your chance. You failed. It’s your own damn fault. I was too weak to hold a gun properly and you chose _not_ to shoot me. So who’s the dumbass now?”

“Have…diplomas…have…education…I’m…I’m…smarter…you…you—”

“I know. I know you’re smarter than me. I know your brain is bigger than mine. I know you know more vocabulary than I do, and know how to use said words in a sentence properly. You can sit there and gloat about how intelligent you are. Doesn’t change the fact that someone _dumber_ than you foiled your schemes.”

“…Kill…kill…Cale…will…find…you—”

“I’ll make this simple, Doctor. You’re not going to Hell. You’re not going to some rehabilitation center. You’re not even going to prison. They’re gonna see _what_ you are, and they’re going to ship you off to some laboratory in the darkest corners of space. You will be drugged. You will be tortured. You will be experimented on. They will shove probes up your fat ass. They will remove parts of you. And there will be no rhyme or reason behind any of it. And everytime you beg for them to kill you, they will refuse. Because, you see, you’re not an alien anymore. You’re just a _toy_ for others to play with now. …No one will know where you are. No one will come for you. No one will save you. So you had better pray that your body is so mangled that once they start shoving needles into you, you die right then and there on their operation table.”

As Vogar kept gurgling and wheezing, Cale stood up and walked behind Vogar. He picked up the deformed alien and guided him towards the same confined room he placed Milz in prior, and shoved the cronok inside. Vogar gasped airily before he turned around, his hollow eye sockets pointed at Cale.

“…Cale…Tomlik…wrong. I…I will…get…free…I will…find—”

“I’m going to bed.”

Cale pushed the button next to the door, and it hissed as it closed. Then the lion inputted a code into the keypad to lock the door, while Vogar kept muttering to himself.

________________________________

The bounty hunter grunted as he shoved the molting cronok into an empty cell. His wide, brown feet squelched, leaving messy footprints on the floor that looked like mud. After Vogar entered the cell, the doors closed and locked. Still blind and disoriented, Vogar felt around his cell until he found something to sit on. He recognized what felt like a cot and grunted as he sat down, still murmuring to himself. When Cale walked away from the cell, he turned and spotted Stollar sitting at his desk again, toying with a pen and scribbling something down on paper. Cale limped over to the alien and exhaled, his body still feeling sore.

“Hey.”

“What?” Stollar snapped.

The hostility in Stollar’s voice was detected instantly. “You’re pissed off.”

“No, Cale, why would I be pissed off that my partner almost died?”

Cale blinked. “What did I do to upset you?”

Stollar grunted as he slammed his pen down. “Yes, Cale, what _did_ you do? Cause I know damn well you didn’t contact me when you went dark. I know you didn’t respond when I was trying to call you. And I know you didn’t help out all those people in Thurgor Town who were being massacred by Vogar’s monsters.”

His eyes narrowing, Cale stared at Stollar before he gestured towards the barren corridor filled with empty cells. “We should talk in private,” the lion growled.

“Yeah. Prolly should.”

Stollar got up from his seat and walked over to the corridor, while Cale followed him from behind. Stollar unlocked one of the cell doors and opened it up, moments before he yelped when Cale grabbed the back of his head and shoved him inside. After Cale shut the door, Stollar turned around and scowled at the lion.

“What the fuck happened down there?! I thought you and Yordin had everything under control!”

“It was under control. I tried to corner Vogar in a secluded location. He got the drop of me, that’s all.”

“So what the hell was Yordin doing?!”

“Evacuating the premises to minimize civilian casualties. Don’t get mad at him; this wasn’t his fault.”

“No, it wasn’t. Seems like all the faults have been yours these past couple weeks.”

Cale folded his arms and snorted. “Fuck does that mean?”

“You know damn well what it means! You willingly gave your name to one of Milz’s associates; suddenly you’re getting your ass beat in the bathroom! You try to capture an associate of the Cartel; suddenly there’s a civilian casualty, and the guy you were trying to apprehend bleeds out in some dank drug den! You underestimated Milz’s resistance and she nearly escaped! And now all this shit in Demyl Swamp?!”

The lion blinked. “So I’ve had a few missteps—”

“This isn’t a few, Cale! _Every_ step you’ve taken since we’ve started tracking down the Cartel has resulted in you stepping on glass! You’re gonna lose your footpaws if you keep this up!”

Huffing, Cale rolled his eyes and said, “I don’t need a fuckin’ lecture right now, Stollar. I’m past the point of lectures. I got ‘em enough when Keevonu was around.”

“No, you do need a lecture. Apparently you forgot that you’re dying. Apparently you forgot that your teeth are falling out. You don’t seem to remember that your heart is failing, or that your organs are decaying. And last time I checked, you violently shat yourself while chasing after Dillvor because you exerted yourself too hard and thought you didn’t need to put on a diaper.”

“Please _do not_ remind me of that,” Cale said self-consciously.

“Why not? You don’t seem to listen to anybody but yourself. Maybe if I beat it across your head enough times—ACK!”

Stollar’s eyes widened when Cale grabbed him roughly by his throat. He shoved him against the wall, snorting so hard that Stollar could feel the air being blown from the lion’s nostrils.

“You think I enjoy this, don’t you? You think this is ‘fun’ for me. Well lemme tell you something, Stollar: I don’t enjoy this. At all. Let me lecture _you_ now; let me remind _you_ of a few things you seem to have forgotten. _You_ are not dying. _You_ are not risking your life trying to catch these scumbags. _You_ do not have to wake up every morning hoping you haven’t lost another tooth. _You_ do not have to listen to people openly tell you that your breath stinks because your gums are decaying. _You_ do not have to wear adult diapers. _Your_ organs are not deteriorating every single day. And _you_ do not have to carry about your day praying that you don’t start coughing up or vomiting up blood. All _you_ do is sit in this station in your fat, comfortable chair, look at some screens, and scream into my ear.”

When Stollar started wheezing and huffing, looking like he was about to pass out, Cale finally let go of the alien. He collapsed to the floor, gasping for breath and coughing, while Cale backed away from the alien and sat down on a cot within the cell. As Cale tried to calm himself down, Stollar stopped coughing and looked up at the lion with watery eyes.

“You don’t need to remind me that you’re dying,” Stollar said, his voice breaking.

“And you don’t need to remind me that I’ve been constantly fucking up.”

The alien sniffled as he walked over to the same cot and sat down beside Cale, who was looking down at his footpaws and twiddling his fingers together.

“You know there was this…giant hyena monster in those labs. Vogar locked me in a room with her and…and I noticed that the bitch was in heat. She didn’t actually…you know…but part of me was just…hmph. You wanna know what I was thinking when that hyena was trying to kill me?”

“What?”

“‘I’m about to die knowing that some female raped me. Ain’t that a bitch?’”

Stollar let out a faint chuckle before he leaned against the wall and exhaled. “You’ve always had a fucked-up sense of humor.”

Cale sat straight up as he rolled his tongue around his mouth, trying to make sure another tooth hadn’t come loose. It hadn’t.

“You know…I’m like you, Cale; I know I haven’t been doing the best I could be. I know you’re dying, and so do you. And you know that whenever you go out there, you’re doing all the hard work and I’m sitting back here looking at computer monitors.”

Cale opened his mouth.

“With my pants _on_ , Cale. I’m not that much of an addict and I can’t multitask that well.”

Cale shut his mouth.

“Point is, I’ve been thinking about joining you in the field. And considering what happened to you in Vogar’s labs, my decision’s been made.”

“No.”

“You’re gonna have to glue my feet to the floor, Cale. I’m coming with you from now on.”

“I don’t need a liability breathing down my neck.”

“This ‘liability’ is the one who uncovered information about the Cartel. I’m the one who found Gaines’ location, not you. I’m the one who found out where Milz’s friend, Shannon, lived. And we both wasted valuable hours hunting down Yordin’s name. You _know_ I’m an asset.”

“Yes, but—”

“No, Cale!” Stollar huffed as he looked directly at the lion. “While you were bringing Vogar here, I did some more research. Gaines is dead. Apparently he was killed _very_ recently.”

“How’s that possible? He got transferred out only a few days ago.”

“That’s the point. Reports said it was some ‘dispute’ or whatever; he was found in the showers, sodomized and stabbed multiple times in the back. No way in hell Gaines is murdered mere _days_ after being sent to a prison facility.”

“Who killed him?”

“Some dogs based out of Knochen City. They used to be cops there ‘til someone busted them for stealing drugs from a crime scene.”

“What does this have to do with what we were just discussing?”

“Guess who’s the police chief in Knochen City?”

Cale shrugged.

“Gobor Grizzer.”

Now Cale looked surprised. He turned and looked at Stollar with wide eyes. “You ca…specify. How—how is that possible? How the hell is a convicted serial rapist in charge of an entire police force?”

Stollar folded his arms. “You were a Cephalopodan Striker. You tell me.”

The lion kept staring at Stollar for a moment before he looked away and leaned back against the wall, feeling lethargic.

“He was convicted on _Tero_ , not Drorix. …I’m assuming Grizzer is ex-military.”

“Yep.”

“And I’m assuming, before Grizzer stepped in, the police force within Knochen City was either incompetent or corrupt. Or both.”

“Bingo.”

Cale shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his muzzle. “He prolly just waltz right up to the former police chief and offered his ‘services’ in an effort to clean up the city.”

“You got it.”

“So now the KCPD is involved…goddamn it.”

“You understand now, Cale? You see why I _have_ to go with you this time? You’re not looking for some rabbit in a city of millions. You aren’t looking for some cronok in a grungy bog. Our next target has an entire army of police soldiers in his pocket.”

Cale opened his eyes and lowered his paw. “That makes sense, actually. No wonder why no one’s caught him yet; he runs the fuckin’ police force. He could walk into a bar, blow it up, and then make a news story saying that some terrorist did it.”

“When he, ironically, _is_ the Terrorist.”

“Wonderful,” Cale murmured, rubbing his eyes again. “Wonderful.”

Stollar turned and looked at the lion. “You’re not doing this alone, Cale. You need _someone_ down there working alongside you. And I don’t wanna take the risk of teaming up with a cop who may be on Gobor’s payroll. Understand?”

“Fine, Stollar, fine…I get it. Just be glad I don’t have any adhesives, or else I _would_ glue your soles to the floor.”

Scoffing, Stollar hopped off the cot and started to unlock the cell door. “Honestly, kinda wanna bag this asshole myself. Assassinating people is one thing. Turning anthros into guinea pigs is another. But the shit I heard about Gobor?”

The alien shook his head before forming a fist. “Some males don’t deserve to have a cock, Cale. S’all I’m gonna say.”

“Well. I’m sure the IGPA won’t mind if we deliver Grizzer to ‘em with a few parts missing.”

Stollar smirked. “I doubt they will.”


	10. The City

“Oh, this is just _wonderful_. Lookit all them neon signs!” Stollar exclaimed.

“You are aware that we’re in a city run by a crime lord and a rapist,” Cale pointed out.

“I’m also aware that I’m going to grow old and die alone. I’m not gonna walk into my bedroom and hang myself because of that.”

The lion looked down at the alien and grumbled. He looked away from the grinning big-eared extraterrestrial as the two of them observed the city from the street they stood on. Cale’s spaceship was docked in the city’s space port, and the duo decided to travel around on foot after taking a taxi into Knochen City. Both of them were walking on the sidewalk, making sure they didn’t step in any form of suspicious grime they occasionally saw near the road. Cale kept looking around at the buildings on the street, surprised that so many of them were advertising their stores or restaurants with neon signs. One moment, Cale could see a green sign reading “FEROH’S LIQUOR,” although the letters for the “F” and “E” had burned out. The next moment, Cale spotted another sign that wouldn’t stop flickering for five seconds hanging above what appeared to be a pornography store. And the next shop they stopped by had a giraffe who was standing outside grunting and straining his neck as he tried to adjust the sign above his building that had gone out completely.

Cale was more impressed with the vehicles within Knochen City. A majority of the civilians drove around on motorcycles of varying colors, their bikes rumbling and chugging as they cruised down the streets. But when Cale looked up in the sky, he would hear an engine whirring or whining several feet in the air, and would spot small vehicles with one or two occupants on them zooming above the buildings. The lion figured it was some kind of hoverbike—and his thoughts were confirmed when he saw a gecko climb onto his wide, blue bike with black stripes on it and press a few buttons located near the bike’s handlebars. After pressing them, the bike’s wheels clicked metallically and shifted upwards into the vehicle, disappearing. The bike propelled itself upwards a foot, but before it hit the ground, three engines emerged—two small ones from the sides behind the rider, and one massive engine from the back of the bike. Cale watched as the two side engines allowed the bike to ascend, while the rear engine propelled the vehicle forward. In only a matter of seconds, the gecko rose up into the air on his bike, and his vehicle emitted a burning whoosh as it soared forward, disappearing beyond the horizon.

“Huh. You’d think everyone in this city would be flying instead of driving,” Cale said.

“Fuel ain’t cheap, buddy. ‘Sides, I think those model of bikes cost, what, eight times the amount of a normal motorbike? Plus you don’t gotta worry about falling to your death if you fall off the side.”

“Mm. Good point.”

Cale and Stollar continued to walk through the city, with the lion putting his paws into his pockets and wiggling his muzzle. He looked down at his open beige vest and pants before feeling around and groping his plasma pistol. Then he looked down at Stollar only clad in his dark blue jeans and snorted.

“Ain’t got no weapon?”

“Or maybe my weapon is concealed. Wandering around with that brick clinging to your leg is just gonna cause attention.”

“Or perhaps it’ll intimidate those around me. I’ve seen about four shady individuals who could’ve mugged me. They immediately went in the other direction once they saw my gun.”

Stollar chuckled. “So you think it’s best to flop your fat cock around; I think it’s best to keep it hidden ‘til I need it.”

“Neither of us is wrong.”

Cale and Stollar reached a crosswalk and waited, looking above at the streetlights and watching as the dozens of motorcycles and occasional bus drove down the street.

“So. Obviously we can’t agitate the cops here. I say we try to find Grizzer, follow him to his base of operations.”

“Because that worked so perfectly the last time,” Stollar said flatly.

Cale blinked. “Okay. We find a contact who will lead us to Grizzer. Clearly some officers know where he’s gonna be today.”

“Because _that_ worked so perfectly the last time.”

Cale scowled. “Then let’s pretend to either be crooks who got arrested, or try to pass ourselves off as police officers—”

“Because _that_ worked so perfectly the last time!”

The light for the crosswalk changed. Cale growled as he walked across the street beside Stollar, while the short alien just looked up at the lion with a big grin on his face.

“Okay then. You’re so fuckin’ smart. Tell me, Stollar, what do _you_ think we should do?”

Stollar shrugged. “Eh. Start a fire. Throw a brick through a window. Defecate inside a shopping mall.”

“ _What_?”

“Listen, Cale, Grizzer runs the cops. We shouldn’t go after Grizzer; we should bring Grizzer over to us! Isn’t it a lot easier to just set a carrot into a trap instead of hunting rabbits with a bow and arrow?”

“Specify.”

Stollar scratched behind his ears. “Cops know everything all the time. I bet Grizzer knows whenever someone so much as scratches their ass in this city. So we cause a ruckus. Nothing that’ll get us caught; nothing that’ll put innocents in danger; nothing that’ll result in a massive shootout. Just…we piss off the cops, and eventually Grizzer will come runnin’!”

“Specify.”

The alien groaned and rolled his eyes. “We buy some kerosene, make Molotov cocktails, throw ‘em at a bunch of cop cars.”

“Good idea.”

____________________________________

Stollar and Cale stood in the depths of a dark alleyway in one of the suburban districts within the city, where most of the buildings surrounding the locations were apartment complexes. More cars and vans occupied the road down here, most likely driven by families who had more than one child to take care of. As the duo stood in the alley, Cale held a dark green bottle in his right paw filled with kerosene that had a rag sticking out of it. Stollar, meanwhile, was keeping track of how much kerosene was left inside of the plastic container he purchased from a retail store.

“All right, there’s no one ‘round here, and that car has just been sitting idly by for the past five minutes. Maybe a neighborhood patrol?”

“Don’t matter. They’re police officers. They’re working for Gobor,” Cale concluded, before using a lighter to ignite the rag in the bottle.

“Yeeeeeeeaaaaah. But, this _is_ the less active portion of the city. Could just be some guards—”

Cale threw the Molotov cocktail at the black and gray police vehicle. The bottle went through one of the open windows, landed directly into the car, and broke. Cale heard the bottle shatter, mere seconds before flames whooshed within the vehicle, setting it on fire. Stollar’s eyes widened.

“The hell, Cale?!”

The lion shrugged. “What? I threw it at the car.”

“You threw it _in_ the car!”

“Same difference.”

“NO, IT’S NOT! THAT CAR ISN’T EMPTY!”

Cale and Stollar watched as the two officers inside burst out of their cars, screaming hysterically as they tried to put out the flames engulfing their bodies.

“Huh. Think that officer’s eyes are melting.”

________________________________________

Stollar sat down on the sidewalk in front of a liquor store, his face buried in his hands. Cale, meanwhile, was leaning against a telephone pole eating a hamburger.

“We’ve been here an hour and we’ve already murdered two police officers,” Stollar moaned.

“I’m sure they put the fire out in time.”

“They’re probably gonna be in the hospital for a good month because of us!”

“Yes.” Cale blinked as he lifted his hamburger and took a gigantic bite out of it, with grease dribbling from the meat and running down the lion’s mouth. “Regardless of what happened, this should attract Grizzer’s attention after a while. We just have to keep at it.”

Stollar exhaled. “Sure, yeah. Perhaps it’s best if we throw our bottles as cars that _aren’t_ —”

Before Stollar could finished, a siren chirped twice, and the alien yelped as he dropped the bottle he was holding in his hands. Another black and gray police cruiser slowly moved down the street, the driver having spotted Cale and the alien standing near the container full of kerosene. Both officers stopped the car for a moment and got outside, their bodies clad in black uniforms consisting of a pair of long pants and a short-sleeved shirt. Cale looked at the badge on one of the officer’s chest while Stollar looked up at the burly and tall Tibetan mastiff standing with his arms folded.

“Hey. Whatcha got there, alopid?” the mastiff asked.

Stollar blinked as he lifted the giant jug of kerosene. “Gas.”

“I see that. You gon’ burn some shit up?”

“Oh no, no, not at all! We alopids prefer _cold_ weather anyways. You’re more likely to see one of us trying to cryogenically freeze a whole city!”

The other officer, a red akita with groomed fur, scratched between his ears and wagged his tail. “Mm. So you didn’t fill a bottle with kerosene and put two police officers in critical condition about a half-hour ago?”

“Of course not! Don’t be silly! We know not to mess with the wonderful officers in blue!”

“Black,” the mastiff responded.

“Black!”

The mastiff and akita turned and looked at the lion who just finished consuming his burger. He swallowed the greasy meal consisting of cheese, beef, bacon and bread before putting his paws into his pockets. The mastiff looked at the tattoo on Cale’s shoulder and flared his nostrils.

“Striker. This alopid giving you trouble?”

Cale looked down at the alien before smirking. “If he was, I wouldn’t need _your_ help taking care of him.”

“Mm. Well, if he _does_ cause a problem, make sure you take care of it _outside_ our district. Don’t feel like scooping up thirty body parts from the same body tonight!” the akita responded.

Cale nodded. “Will do.”

Both police officers returned to their vehicle and started the engine back up. As the canines began to drive away, Stollar took a long breath before wiping off some sweat that began to form on his face.

“Good…shit that could’ve gone wrong.”

“I was expecting it to end with either both of them dead or both of us dead. Seems like we averted a crisis.”

“For now. We can’t wander ‘round the streets carrying all this stuff; some of these cops are gonna wise up after a while.”

“Indeed. We’ll attack from buildings and conceal the kerosene in a bag, act like it’s just some groceries. That’ll work I guess.”

“Yeah.” Stollar blinked and looked back up at the lion. “You, uh…you wouldn’t chop me into thirty body parts, would you?”

“Your body isn’t big enough to chop into thirty parts. I could do twenty though.”

Stollar gulped.

________________________________________

A few hours and half a dozen burned police cruisers later, Stollar and Cale realized that they were running out of bottles and kerosene. The other police vehicles they set aflame all caught on fire with relatively no issues. Cale or Stollar would call the cops, falsely stating that there was a crime in process in an abandoned building. As soon as the police officers wandered into the structure to investigate, Cale or Stollar would toss a Molotov at the cruiser before sprinting away as the vehicle erupted into flames. Both of the officers would run back outside and report the crime to their dispatcher or precinct, while the duo would disappear before anyone spotted them. But despite the sheer amount of vehicles they set on fire—not to mention the officers Cale put in the hospital—there was no sign of Grizzer, and no one had even bothered to radio him specifically for help. As Cale and Stollar currently stared at the Bernese Mountain Dog and the bulldog who were frantically calling for backup in front of their burning vehicle, Stollar grumbled as he shook his container of kerosene.

“We’re running low. Damn it, this isn’t working!”

“Can’t we just buy more?”

“No! They probably have some news announcement stating there’s a serial arsonist on the loose targeting cops. If we buy more kerosene they’re gonna _immediately_ suspect us.”

“Hmm.” Cale rolled his tongue around his mouth while Stollar exhaled and counted the rest of his bottles. “Keep out of sight. I’m gonna try something.”

Stollar watched as Cale nonchalantly walked out into the middle of the street, pushing his way past some of the onlookers who were observing the burning car but doing nothing to try and put out the fire. The bulldog backed away from the car, moaning as he listened to some of the glass shattering.

“God _damn_ it. I left my gun in there!”

“Mm. Perhaps you don’t deserve to wear that badge then.”

The bulldog turned around and snorted as he glared at the lion. “The fuck do you know about being a cop?! You think any of this is easy when you’re constantly—”

The Berner walked over to the bulldog and immediately nudged him in his ribs, gesturing for him to be quiet.

“What, Mylo?! I’m getting sick of all these fuck—”

“Shoulder— _shoulder_ ,” the Berner snarled.

The bulldog looked at Cale’s left arm and spotted the tattoo. Then he scoffed and folded his arms. “Oh. You one of _them_. Guess you think that ink makes you some hot shit, dont’cha?”

“You stopped running your mouth, now didn’t ya?”

The Berner stepped in front of the bulldog to avoid any physical confrontation. “Listen, kitty, this ain’t none of your business. You ain’t a cop so just go back to doing whatever it is you lions do in private.”

“And what if I said I wanted to help?”

“We don’t need _your_ help.”

“Really? Been hearing lots of chatter recently ‘bout multiple squad cars getting set on fire. One of ‘em still had cops inside.”

“Chief Grizzer—”

“Chief Grizzer is busy gettin’ his cock sucked or shoving it up someone’s ass. Fuckin’ faggot can’t go two hours without spraying his jizz all over the place,” the bulldog grumbled.

Cale widened his nostrils and coughed. “Mm. Perhaps I should meet up with your chief and file a complaint.”

The bulldog scoffed and rolled his eyes. “Sure, yeah. Just stroll right up into Rolvol Club and let our blowhard of a chief know that a few street cops are getting their cars torched. I’m _sure_ he’ll listen to some feline like you and take your advice into consideration.”

The lion shrugged. “Worth a shot.”

As Cale turned around and walked away from the police officers, he headed towards the same alleyway Stollar was hiding in. The lion leaned against the wall and grunted as he felt his chest tightening and his kidneys throbbing in pain. Shoveling his left paw into his vest pocket, Cale took out a small bottle of pills and unscrewed the cap.

“You good?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” Cale said, dumping two of the pills into his mouth and swallowing hard. “Apparently the valiant chief likes to spend his free time at Rolvol Club instead of doing his job. He’s down there now according to one of those officers.”

“Are you shitting me?”

Cale shook his head and stuffed the bottle back into his pocket. His chest and sides were still hurting, but the feline knew the pain would subside within a half hour. “He’s ‘busy gettin’ his cock sucked or shoving it up someone’s ass.’ So you know what that means.”

“Fuckin’ wonderful.” Stollar rubbed his face and let out a long breath. “This-this what we’re gonna do. We’re gonna head into this club— _without_ revealing ourselves, like you did when you were chasing after Milz Dillvor. We’re gonna place a tracker on Gobor discreetly, follow him, and bag him when an opportunity presents itself.”

“What if Grizzer heads back to his headquarters?”

“Then we’ll have to bag him before that happens. Cause some sort of distraction and lead him into a trap. You’re a lion; I’m sure he’ll come running right towards you if you piss him off enough. Should be simple.”

“That’s what I thought when I was going to capture Dillvor and Dr. Oblingor.”

“But you didn’t have _me_ helping you,” Stollar said, smirking.

“So you say.”

As Cale and Stollar exited the alleyway, Cale spotted a jaguar clad in a dark green hoody standing in the crowd, gazing at the burning wreckage. He silently turned around and began to walk away from the crowd when he spotted Cale and wiggled his nose. Subtly, the jaguar nodded at Cale before mouthing out the word “tonight” and disappearing down the street.

“Uhhhhhhhhhh…you know that guy?”

“No?” Cale said questionably.

__________________________________________

Rolvol Club was the same as the rest of the city in terms of its decorations. Most of the lights within the building consisted of some form of neon, with giant signs hanging up everywhere signaling areas of interest. The sign above the bar was shaped like a cocktail and emitting yellow light; the sign above the exit was dark red; there was even a sign over near the bathrooms depicting a toilet that was light blue and flickering a couple of times. The air inside of the building was acrid, smelling heavily of cigar smoke and musk for hundreds of different species of anthros. The floors were made of reinforced metal and paved with tiles, along with the walls and ceiling. Cale stomped on the floor a few times and looked around at various oversized anthros who would’ve easily fallen through the floor had it been made out of softer material. In the front of the club was a massive monitor depicting a series of colorful amalgamations and patterns, as if someone was looking through a never-ending, always shifting kaleidoscope. A crowd of anthros were all staring at the monitor and the strobe lights that were slowly shining around the main floor.

The duo noticed that no one on the main floor was dancing; everyone seemed to be watching the monitor, talking to each other with drinks in their hands or paws, sitting down at tables or at the bar eating their meals, or sitting at private booths that had exotic dancers on them moving around metal poles. Stollar spent more time than he needed staring at one of the dancers, some yellow humanoid alien with eyes that were completely black wearing a skintight dark blue latex outfit that showed off all of her curvy and voluptuous assets. The alopid snickered lustfully as he approached one of the tables with a dancer on it, only to stop when Cale punched him in his shoulder.

“No.”

“I—what?!”

“We did not come here so you could get your dick wet.”

“I was only looking, Cale! I mean you’ve seen the anthros and aliens in here; they’re distracting!”

Cale didn’t say anything for a moment. He looked around the club for a moment until he spotted a heavyset Rottweiler walk past him, the canine clad in a tight gray T-shirt and jeans. The lion assumed that the canine was one of the bouncers or someone’s bodyguard. Nevertheless, Cale couldn’t help but look at the dog’s hindquarters as he walked away, gazing at his plump bottom stuffed inside the dog’s loose jeans that were sagging and showing off part of his underwear. The lion grunted when Stollar punched him in his left arm.

“We did not come here so you could get your dick brown,” Stollar said in a mocking voice.

His eyes narrowed, Cale gazed at the short alopid, who folded his arms and showed off his shark-like shit-eating grin.

“Let’s look for our target. _Together_ , Stollar; I don’t want either of us getting snatched up because we decided to split up like all those dumbasses in horror movies.”

“But we’ll cover more ground if we split up,” Stollar stated.

“We’ll also paint a bigger target on our backs. The Cartel might know who we are now that the Assassin and Chemist have been neutralized. Prolly best if we stay within eyesight.”

“Huh. I see your point.”

After speaking to each other, Cale and Stollar started to walk around the club together, trying their best to remain inconspicuous. Cale acted like he was just some random civilian wandering around looking for the dance floor or the bar, while Stollar kept pausing every so often to glare at the scantily-clad females in their exposing or beautiful outfits. The duo came across a group of dogs who were all drinking wine and laughing joyously as they sat down around a table. Cale walked past them and glanced at the canines with his peripheral vision before moving past them. Afterwards, Cale waved for Stollar to follow him, and the two came across a couple near the wall who were busy hugging and kissing each other. They watched as the couple disappeared into the women’s bathroom, with the male civilian making sure no one saw him sneak inside. As Cale stood near the restrooms, he leaned against the wall and took out his cell phone.

“Take your phone out,” Cale commanded.

“Hmm? Why? I got my FCD.”

“Just do it. Make it seem like you’re messaging someone.”

The pale-skinned beast stared at Stollar before he leaned against the wall too and removed his phone. As he began to check his recent messages, he looked over at the lion and sniffed.

“How you holding up?”

Cale flicked his eyes at the alopid and blinked. “Hmm?”

“You doing okay? Chest ain’t feeling tight or nothing, is it?”

Shaking his head, Cale said, “I’m all right. Pills are doing their job, and so’s that potion. I’ll be okay.”

“Good.”

Cale continued to play with his phone, scrolling through his list of contacts and pausing. He took a few deep breaths before he lowered his phone and exhaled harshly.

“Actually…um. Been reminiscing about Keevonu a lot lately.”

Stollar put his phone down and looked up at the feline. “Oh?”

“Correct. I’ve…recently, I thought about when I broke the news that I was exposed to the pathogen. And, um…” Cale blinked as he stared ahead and looked around the various crowds on the floor. Then he shrugged. “Was just feeling nostalgic…I guess.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

Cale shook his head. “You asked if I was doing okay. I responded truthfully. How I feel won’t interfere with our current mission.”

“It’s moreso your attitude if anything else. You don’t sound, eh, ‘normal’ when you talk.”

“Specify.”

“Okay, that—I couldn’t think of the word, but that kind of demeanor! It sounds like you…like you’re not an anthro. Like you’re some kind of automaton or a sociopath.”

Cale blinked. “I wasn’t aware that my speech pattern upset you.”

“It doesn’t. But it’s like talking to someone who doesn’t shower. You get used to it after a while, but trust me; it’s still noticeable. You just never sound like you’re relaxed.”

Cale grumbled as he stuffed his paws into his pockets and sniffed. “Who said I’m ever relaxed?”

Stollar turned away from the lion and huffed as he observed the crowds in the club, still wondering if he would be able to find Grizzer by chance.

“We’re on a mission now. We’ll discuss our personal lives another time,” Cale murmured.

“Yeah, yeah, sorry. S’pose thinking about all this is only a distraction.”

After staying near the bathrooms, Cale gestured for the alopid to follow him, and they headed over to the bar and ordered a drink for themselves. Cale purchased a regular glass of whiskey while Stollar got a glass filled with light green, thick fluids that had tiny, wiggling insects floating around on the surface of the fluids. Cale glanced at the insects in the glass before looking away and scowling, not wanting to know what the alien was about to put inside his mouth. While the two of them consumed their beverages, Cale kept his ears opened and examined all the patrons in the club.

“Don’t worry, bruh; we still got a week to get them reports done! We can spend _one_ night partying!”

“No, Sheila, I don’t know how that condom got inside of the van. Maybe Cody has been ‘experimenting’ again with his stuffed toys.”

“Honey, relax. If you really are that nervous, just have a club soda so you don’t end up puking all over yourself.”

Cale took a long drink from his glass and set it down on the counter before sniffing. He spun his glass around a few times before hearing two other patrons whispering near the bar.

“Tonight,” one of them said.

“When?”

“You’ll know when you see the signal. Get ready.”

“Roger that.”

Cale slowly shifted around on his stool and spotted two anthros standing close to each other and clad in hooded sweatshirts. One of them was a monitor lizard who turned and headed for the club’s exit, while the other, a wide cheetah wearing ripped jeans, walked up to Cale and gestured.

“Tonight,” the cheetah said.

Cale nodded. “Any deviations?”

The cheetah raised his eyebrow. “What deviations?”

“No room for failure. Inform me of deviations or I walk.”

The cheetah stared at Cale’s face before turning and looking at Cale’s shoulder. He saw his tattoo. And then he glared at Cale and snorted.

“Mm. Not a member.”

Cale reached forward and grabbed the cheetah’s wrist as he was about to walk away. After grabbing him, Stollar turned and looked at the two felines, his glass now empty.

“Cale…low profile buddy,” Stollar whispered.

“No problem, buddy. Just want a few answers. What do I gotta do to be a ‘member’?”

The cheetah kept his mouth shut. Cale tightened his grip, and the cheetah started to wince.

“My right arm ain’t made of flesh. I can break your wrist if I squeeze hard enough. I want answers.”

“I’d rather die knowing I refused helping Grizzer and his mercenaries,” the cheetah snarled.

Cale blinked. “We’re allies then.”

“We are _not_ allies.”

Stollar huffed. “Listen, we’re not working with Grizzer. We hate the son of a bitch; we know what he does. We’re trying to stop him before he hurts anyone else.”

“I’m a feline,” started Cale. “You’re a feline. From what I’ve heard about Grizzer, he’s a bit prejudiced against our kind. Why would I _want_ to work for him?”

“Money,” said the cheetah.

“My dignity is invaluable. So is my partner’s here. Now tell me: what is happening tonight?”

The cheetah blinked. “We’re taking back the city. Once the tower falls, his soldiers will scatter, and we’ll have a perfect shot at him. Grizzer has already painted us Liberators as monstrous rebels. So that’s what we’re gonna be.”

Still staring at the cheetah, Cale gradually loosened his grip of the feline, and he backed away. Wordlessly, the chubby cheetah turned around and headed for the club’s exit, while Stollar started breathing heavily.

“Look up any ‘rebel’ activity within Knochen City,” Cale demanded.

“On it.”

As Cale ordered another whiskey, Stollar took out his cell phone and started checking the local news networks on the Internet, searching for any recent activity about rebels sighted in the city. The alien scrolled his way through a few articles before grimacing.

“Shit…there’s been a guerrilla organization fighting off the police force the past few months. Lemme see…bombing at a shopping mall…bombing on a bus…shootout in a hotel—god, couple weeks ago these rebels set off a bomb in a suburban neighborhood, killed upwards of forty civilians.”

Cale snorted. “Hmph. Lemme guess: Grizzer is mentioned in all of these articles. And it mentions him pinning the blame on these so-called ‘rebels.’”

“‘These rebels…the malicious ‘Liberators,’ have done nothing but spread more terror across this city. You all elected me as your Chief of Police to _stop_ the chaos, not reignite it. My heart goes out to all the victims…’ fuck it—I’m not reading this. This has ‘scapegoat’ splattered all over it.”

Rubbing his head, Cale took a long breath. “Goddamn it; this is just gonna complicate everything. All right, that cheetah said they’re gonna strike tonight. We don’t have much time left; we gotta find Grizzer and bag him ‘fore the Liberators start a war with the police.”

“How do you know they’re gonna do that and not just take out Grizzer himself?”

“Strikers. S’what I would’ve done.”

Stollar blinked. “You’re gonna have to tell me what you did when you were with that organization.”

“Sure.” Cale finished off his entire glass of whiskey before he paid for his drink and stood up. “We’ll check the bottom floor. Maybe all the cops are down there having some private meeting.”

“All right.”

Both partners walked away from the bar and hurried over to the staircase leading to the lower floor. They moved their way past a lanky lemur who was leaning against the wall and stuffing what looked like a small packet of ecstasy into her pocket, trying to seem inconspicuous. Stollar and Cale hurried their way down the stairs, moving through the dark staircase and shoving their way past a few civilians walking upstairs towards the exit. They pushed open a set of double doors and arrived inside of a dark blue room that had smoke coming up around the floors. Techno music was blaring from the speakers in the corners of room, and in the center of the floor were various anthros and aliens who were dancing amongst each other to the music. Every now and then, the floor would change color, illuminating the entire floor with a different shade of bright lights that were almost blinding. Cale grimaced as he started to wander around the floor, looking at the expensive red chairs some of the anthros were sitting on. The lion continued to glance at the different groups occupying the sofas; some were laughing raucously and drinking expensive wine while others were snorting drugs off the tables.

“Hey…hold up; I think I see something. Small group over by the black sofa, round your ten o’clock,” Stollar said over the din.

Cale grunted when a small group of laughing anthros walked in his direction, bumping into him and nearly knocking him down onto the floor. He scowled as they walked away before looking in the direction Stollar gestured towards. The lion slowly made his way over to the sofa, where half a dozen anthros—mostly canines—were dressed in casual clothing and smoking cigars or drinking wine. The feline nonchalantly walked past the sofa, checking out some of the anthros’ pants and catching a glimpse of their firearms. He moved past the sofa before sitting down at a table in the corner, away from the dance floor.

“Yeah. Seem like cops to me. One of ‘em’s got a badge on his jeans; three of ‘em got standard issue M1911s,” Cale said.

“I didn’t see Gobor with ‘em though,” Stollar said, before feeling his stomach growling.

Cale exhaled. “Might be takin’ a piss. Doubt he’d come here to dance.”

“Okay, good; I’ll check the bathrooms then.” Stollar’s stomach grumbled again. “May as well kill two birds with one stone right?”

“Sure.” Cale grabbed one of the menus on the table and opened it up. “Take your time. And keep your earpiece on; I’ll let you know if the cops leave.”

Stollar nodded. “Gotcha.”

As the alopid hurried off into the bathrooms, Cale started looking through the menu to find something light to eat until Stollar returned. He started examining various different kinds of ribs he could eat, beckoned one of the waiters to come over, and he promptly got a full rack of barbecue pork ribs. While waiting, Cale flicked his eyes over at the police officers and saw another feline sitting in-between them. He was looking down at the floor, twiddling his fingers and looking disheveled and depressed. One of the dogs nudged him in his jaw while an okapi leaned forward and tapped his cigar over the cat’s head. The European Shorthair cat didn’t say anything or react, up until the okapi put out his cigar on the cat’s paw, causing him to yowl and jerk his arm backwards. After the okapi put out his cigar, the cat murmured something before looking over at the Great Dane sitting beside him. Cale stopped looking at the police for a moment when the waiter brought him his beverage—a regular bottle of beer—and drank from his bottle a few times. Trying to remain inconspicuous, Cale took out his cell phone and started sifting through his messages, looking bored.

He casually glanced over at the group of police officers and frowned. The cat slowly unzipped his lime green hooded sweatshirt, revealing what looked like a bomb vest. Seconds later, the Great Dane grinned as he handed a detonator to the feline. He hesitated at first, but eventually the cat took the detonator and nodded.

“Oh, _fuck_ ,” Cale murmured.

______________________________________

Stollar took a huge breath after he finished defecating. He reached backwards and flushed the toilet before he heard someone walk into the bathroom and lock the door. Stollar started unrolling the toilet paper beside him before hearing someone growling, and another person whimpering. One of the stall doors burst open, causing Stollar to jump on his seat. He stopped unrolling the toilet paper and heard the door slamming again, followed by pants rustling.

“No! NO, STOP!”

One of the voices became muffled, and another person started snarling and grunting, creating a large commotion in the stall. The first voice started screaming, and Stollar whimpered when he heard someone getting punched several times over.

“Quiet,” someone snarled.

Stollar frantically wiped his rump before he slowly pulled up his pants and unlocked the stall door. After walking out, he slowly crept around the stalls and looked beneath them. One of the stalls had two sets of footpaws beneath them, and both bodies were crashing against the walls. The screaming started to fade, turning into desperate whimpers before they were replaced with lustful, guttural grunts and growls. Stollar took a few deep breaths before he turned around and started washing his hands, acting as if he couldn’t hear anything. He waited until the noises stopped before he turned off the faucet. Seconds later, the other stall door opened, and Stollar could hear heavy footpaws stepping behind him after the door closed. He shook the water off his hands before turning around and yelping. Gobor Grizzer was standing in front of him.

“Oh. Sup?” Stollar said casually.

Stollar stared at the burly dog clad in his red vest and red jeans. The gray-furred pit bull growled without opening his mouth as he looked down at the alien.

“Did you hear that shit?” he asked.

“Um…what?”

“I said did you fuckin’ hear that shit?”

Stollar scratched his cheek. “I mean I had the water running. It’s pretty loud—GUH!”

Gobor grabbed Stollar by his throat and started to squeeze. He snarled as he leaned downwards, shoving his wide face against Stollar’s long muzzle.

“DID YOU HEAR THAT SHIT OR NOT?!” he bellowed.

“ACK! I…I wasn’t…” 

Stollar wheezed as Gobor tightened his grip. He felt like his neck was gradually cracking, and he’d die within a matter of seconds. Gobor started to grin widely as he felt Stollar’s life slowly draining from his body. All of a sudden, Stollar heard an abrupt, unmelodious sputtering noise that went on for five seconds. Stollar stopped panicking, and Gobor let go of his neck and started howling with laughter. He backed away from the alien, nearly falling over from laughing so much, while Stollar coughed and sniffed the air, scowling after realizing what Gobor just did.

“Now I _know_ you heard that! Hahaha, guess I still had some gas trapped back there!”

“Yes,” Stollar said, waving a hand in front of his face. “Clearly. Not sure why you had to choke me though.”

Gobor snickered. “Friends say I got a fucked-up sense of humor! S’what makes me special!”

“Uh-huh.” Stollar flicked his eyes over to the stall Gobor just walked out of. The person inside moaned softly.

“Don’t worry ‘bout that fucker. Real constipated and shit. He’ll be fine.”

“Maybe I should go check up—”

“No,” Gobor barked, before he dug into his pants pocket and pulled out a platinum badge. “See here buddy? I’m a fuckin’ cop. _Chief_ of police. Means I run this fuckin’ city, understand? So trust me when I fuckin’ tell you, if something’s okay, something’s fuckin’ okay. Okay?”

“Okay.” Stollar blinked. “I think?”

“Good.” Gobor stuffed his badge back in his pocket. “First time in the city I’m guessing. Otherwise you’d know who I am.”

“Well, who are you?”

“Gobor fuckin’ Grizzer baby!” Stollar stared at Gobor as he extended a paw. But the alopid refused to shake it out of disgust. Gobor looked down at his paws and chuckled. “Right. Gotta wash _my_ paws now!”

Stollar tried his hardest not to scowl as he heard the anthro within the stall moan again. Gobor nonchalantly washed his paws while Stollar sniffled and folded his arms.

“What brings you to Knochen City?”

“None of your business,” Stollar snapped accidentally.

“You fuckin’ forget who I am? It _is_ my business. Everything in this fuckin’ city is my business.” The dog turned and glared at Stollar. “You fuckin’ with my business?”

“No, course not.”

“So why you in my city?”

“Eh, you know. Sightseeing. Always like the whole neon aesthetics and the, um, the preference to motorcycles and hoverbikes. Not a huge fan of cars; too large, too slow, all that shit.”

“Mm. Well, you ain’t no fuckin’ cat, so you ain’t part of the Liberators. Hmm…alopid though. Haven’t seen your kind in my city before. You sure you’re just sightseeing?”

Stollar stared at Gobor as he finished washing his paws and dried them off with a few paper towels. The alien paused for a while as he kept gazing at Stollar, examining his abs as he kept his vest unzipped, showing off his midriff. Stollar nervously rubbed his left arm before nodding.

“Mmmmmmmmmm yup! S’why I’m in this club! You’ve seen all the gorgeous females here.”

“Fuck them cunts. Don’t swing that way.”

“Well yeah, you know, there’s a lotta handsome males here too; that’s fine.”

“Uh-huh. Well, enjoy your fuckin’ ‘sightseeing’ then. Got some important shit to do.”

Gobor shoved Stollar out of the way and began to head for the main door. Just as the pit bull began to exit, Stollar dug into his pocket and pulled out a syringe. He ran up to Gobor and lifted his vest before shoving the syringe into the dog’s back. Gobor yelped, while Stollar quickly depressed the plunger and shoveled it back into his pocket. Gobor snarled as he turned around, while Stollar backed up towards the sink.

“Ohhh…you copping a feel, eh?”

“Um…sure?”

Gobor snickered as he walked in front of Stollar, pressing his body against the alien and breathing heavily. He reached up and ran a paw against Stollar’s long muzzle before sniffing.

“So, sightseeing…you enjoy the fuckin’ sight in front of you?”

“U-um…no, I was just—I was—”

“Stay still.”

Stollar shuddered when Gobor pinned him against the sink with one paw. He used his other paw to grasp Stollar’s trousers.

“What are you doing?!”

“Hey. You assaulted a police officer. ‘Sides, _you_ touched me first.”

“But I wasn’t—”

Gobor didn’t care. The canine stuffed his paw down Stollar’s pants very slowly, reaching into his underwear. The alien whimpered when Gobor started to grope him, moving his paw around his testicles and rubbing his flaccid penis a few times.

“Stop,” Stollar snarled.

Gobor shook his head before moving his paw around Stollar’s scrotum. “It’s either this or you get arrested for assaulting a police officer. And I know your scrawny ass wouldn’t last a fuckin’ night.”

The pit bull slowly removed his paw from Stollar’s pants before he began to unzip them. Suddenly, someone started knocking on the bathroom door. Gobor exhaled and rolled his eyes, but he continued to unzip Stollar’s trousers anyway before pulling them down and exposing Stollar’s lower body. Stollar started forming a fist with his right hand and grit his teeth.

“I said stop!”

Gobor grinned. “Fuck you gonna do if I don’t?”

Before Gobor could continue, someone started pounding on the door. “The fuck man?! I gotta take a shit! You better open the door or I’m gonna break it down!”

Frustrated, Gobor stopped touching Stollar and groaned as he lifted the alien’s pants back up. Stollar quickly zipped up and buttoned up his trousers while Gobor stomped over to the door and unlocked it. He pulled it open, and the magpie standing on the other side of the door exhaled as he stormed inside.

“Oh thank fuck. I was about—”

Gobor grabbed the bird’s beak and shoved him into the bathroom so violently that the bird tripped and landed on his stomach. He quickly got up and sprinted to the stall, while Gobor scowled and walked outside.

“Enjoy your shit ma’fucker!” Gobor snarled.

Stollar didn’t move. He stood against the sink, still whimpering and shaking. It wasn’t until he heard the magpie defecating into the toilet that he took a deep breath and snapped back to his senses. Scowling, Stollar exited the bathroom and walked back into the club.

_______________________________________________

Cale was busy finishing up his ribs when he looked at the group of police officers again. Only this time, Gobor was walking towards them. Cale gulped down the chunk of meat in his mouth before he set his meatless bone down on his plate. Moments later, a huffing Stollar returned to the table and sat across from the lion.

“Perfect timing. Gobor just came back.”

“I know that,” Stollar snapped. “I just got done talking to him.”

Cale blinked. “You spoke to him _directly_?”

“Didn’t you hear what just happened over the earpiece?”

Cale pointed backwards at the speakers. “The song they were playing a few minutes ago damn near knocked my teeth out. What happened?”

“He caught me in the bathroom; I didn’t know it was him.”

“What do you mean you didn’t know it was him?”

“I mean I heard _someone_ raping another anthro in a stall, Cale.”

Cale paused. He stared at the alopid and noticed he wouldn’t stop hyperventilating. Even as he calmly set his hands on the table, the alien was unnerved. 

“Did he rape you?”

Stollar didn’t answer. He just folded his arms and looked away.

“Did he rape you?” Cale asked again.

“He was about to. Started pulling down my pants…stupid. He was about to get away; I had to put a tracker on him. He thought I was just trying to grope his ass.”

“Goddamn it,” Cale snarled, before looking at Gobor and snorting.

“That other guy…he’s still—”

“Irrelevant.”

“Someone got _raped_ and you’re saying it’s irrelevant?”

“It’s a public club. Someone will open the stall, find him, take him to a hospital.”

“He’s gonna rat on Gobor. Next thing you know, he’s gonna send his dogs to blow up the hospital the victim’s staying in.”

“If the victim’s smart, he’ll keep his mouth shut. Prolly why Gobor didn’t just snap his neck and leave the body.”

Stollar gritted his teeth and snorted noisily. “Can’t we just walk over there and shoot the bastard?”

“No. Did you see that shorthair cat, the one in the hoody?”

“What about him?”

“Got a bomb vest.”

“ARE YOU FU—” Stollar lowered his voice when he realized it was almost louder than the music bursting through the speakers. He leaned forward and started to talk softly. “You fucking kidding me?”

“No. I saw it. Saw the cops hand the cat a detonator. There’s gonna be another attack—tonight. Obviously it’s not gonna be in this club, not while Gobor is here.”

“So then let’s go over there, shoot ‘em all, disarm the bomb and be done with it.”

“Can’t. We don’t know who’s giving the orders. This might have to do with the pathogen Vogar made. And we don’t know if the Baron has any spies in here. If someone else has a detonator for that bomb and they’re working for the Baron directly, then—”

“Then the spy won’t hesitate to blow up this entire club, with Gobor in it, just to ensure Gobor can’t incriminate the Baron.”

“Precisely.”

Stollar let out another long breath as he rubbed his face. “What are the odds? Huh? What are the odds that the one night we decide to bag Grizzer, the Liberators are planning to take out his police force, I become a witness to someone getting raped, and we also stumble across Grizzer in the process of committing another terrorist attack?” He slammed his hands on the table. “How are we _this_ unlucky?”

“I took a shit inside a confessional booth once. God is evidently still angry about that.”

Stollar narrowed his eyes as he glared at Cale, who somehow managed to keep a straight face.

“So what do we do?” Stollar asked. “Maybe we should go after the bomb first, then Grizzer later since I got a tracker on him.”

“They’re gonna split up. Which means we gotta split up.”

“ _Now_ you think we should split up.” Stollar’s ears wiggled for a moment as the alopid pondered the situation a bit further. “No…that _does_ make sense. If we both die trying to capture Grizzer, we can’t stop the bomb—same thing vice versa.”

Cale nodded. “Can’t do much now though. We’ll just have to wait until they leave.”

Stollar growled as he started dragging his nails against the table, evidently enraged by what happened inside the bathroom. But he calmed himself down and snatched up one of the ribs from the plate, munching on it and acting like he was just having a harmless meal with a friend.

___________________________________________________

The duo followed Grizzer and the feline once they left the club. As they got outside and found themselves surrounded by streetlights and other colorful neon lights radiating in the night, Cale looked to his right and could see the feline walking down the street alone. He pulled out his cell phone very quickly and switched over to one of the tracking programs he had installed on the device. After turning it on, Cale exhaled and found Grizzer’s location.

“Got a fix on Gobor. You want me to bag him or should I chase the bomber?”

“Get Gobor. He’s already seen my face; if he sees it again, he’ll know I’m following him. Keep your earpiece on; I’ll update you on the situation.”

Not waiting for Cale’s reply, Stollar turned to his right and began to jog down the street. As Cale went in the other direction, Stollar moved his way past the crowd of anthros around him, ignoring the various crowds who were busy trying to get inside Rolvol Club. He spotted the feline in the hooded sweatshirt after jogging for half a minute and slowed down, stuffing his hands in his pockets. He kept examining his surroundings, checking to make sure that no one was following him. As Stollar arrived at a four-way intersection, he looked across the street and saw a basketball game going on in an outdoor field, with a small audience watching as two teams of rats jogged around shooting the ball into hoops. To Stollar’s right, he saw two young hyenas speaking to each other and looking at their phones, shortly before two wolves—presumably their lovers—came along and picked them up in a car. Stollar heard sirens whining in his big ears and squinted as he looked up. One of the hoverbikes was speeding through the air so fast it zipped past the street before the alien could see who was on it.

Four hoverbikes emitting the titular whining noise zoomed through the sky as well. As Stollar looked back down on the street, the light changed colors, allowing the anthros to walk across. The alien continued to follow the feline, breathing softly and checking to see if he was going to pull out the detonator. But he just kept his head low as he maneuvered his way through the crowd. After crossing the street, the cat took a sharp left and started storming down the road, passing by a diner that was closing down, a mechanic’s shop that was open 24/7 and had two oil-laden mandrills fixing up a truck inside, and passed by two police officers who were inside of a jewelry shop shouting at who appeared to be the owner. Without looking directly inside, Stollar watched as one of the police officers flipped the sign over to read “CLOSED,” while the other proceeded to close the blinds. Scowling, Stollar kept gazing at the cat before his earpiece crackled.

“Target in sight. Maintaining distance. You still on the feline?”

Stollar stopped so he could lean against a brick wall. He sniffed. “Still in pursuit. You sure this isn’t a decoy?”

“Trust me; I saw the bomb.”

“He’s not heading towards populated areas. We just passed by a basketball game still in motion and he blatantly ignored it.”

“His target must be specific.”

“Can’t I subdue him now?”

“Negative. If his bomb is carrying some kind of pathogen, it’ll be released into the air. Couple dozen casualties could turn into a couple thousand. Confront him in an enclosed area.”

“Like some car or building with all the doors closed?”

“That’ll do.”

Stollar looked to his right and saw the feline walking again. “Shit, he’s on the move. I’ll update you later.”

The alopid went back to following the cat, listening as a bus started to rumble as it slowly moved along the city streets. It stopped in front of a bus stop, picking up the two dozen passengers who were impatiently waiting for their transportation to arrive. The cat turned and gazed at the bus, watching as it slowly began to drive away. He lowered his head and rubbed his face, looking ashamed. Stollar figured out what the target was and swallowed, mildly relieved that the feline wasn’t picking a much larger target. Stollar kept following the cat until he sat down at a bus stop. The alopid joined him, grunting as he sat on the bench and pulled out his phone. He briefly looked to his left and spotted some anthro—presumably a canine—sitting on his orange motorcycle, its engine sputtering gently. Up ahead across the street, Stollar spotted more civilians walking down the street before two more police officers clad in their uniform stopped and leaned against an apartment building. Grimacing, Stollar looked at the cat for a moment and saw him wiping sweat off his face.

“Did you grab the target yet?” Cale asked.

Stollar didn’t answer immediately. He slowly put his phone up to his ear, blinking and pretending to wait for it to start ringing.

“Heeeeeeeeeey buddy! How’s it goin’?”

Cale paused. “You’re not alone, are you?”

Stollar chuckled. “Nah man! Nah, _still_ ain’t there yet! You know my car’s broken down!”

“Is the target right next to you?”

Stollar rolled his eyes. “Unfortunately. Sucks how much these assholes charge you.”

“Are you still outside?”

“Yup. Just waiting for a bus! I’d take a taxi, but that shit’s too expensive. Better off taking the bus, y’know?”

“Shit. Okay, when you find an opportunity, neutralize the target. Do it on the bus; that’ll minimize casualties in case the pathogen’s in the explosives.”

“Yeah man, I understand. I’ll see you when I see ya!”

Stollar pretended to hang up his phone and slid it back into his pocket. He waited for another couple of minutes until the bus arrived, a massive rectangular vehicle that was painted dark green and had white stripes on it. The bus hissed noisily as it stopped by the sidewalk, and the driver opened up the door and greeted everyone sitting at the stop. Stollar waited for everyone to get on the bus first, and then he stepped into the vehicle and promptly paid for a ticket just as the bus driver began to drive away from the sidewalk. Stollar looked around the bus and grunted as he moved around, checking out all of the seats until he found the cat sitting on the backseat, across from a porcupine who looked like he had just been in some kind of scuffle. He sat down in-between the porcupine and the shorthair cat, scowling a bit when the overwhelming odor of the porcupine filled his nostrils. He turned and looked at the feline who had his paws in his sweatshirt pockets. There was no point in waiting; he had to defuse the situation right now.

“Gimme the detonator,” Stollar whispered.

The cat turned and looked at Stollar. “W-what?”

“There’s a detonator in your pocket. You’re gonna hand it to me.”

“I…sir…I-I think you should go find—”

“This big guy right beside me? Think he’s looking for a reason to beat someone to a pulp. You want me to scream that you’re some terrorist?”

“Shut the fuck up or move,” the porcupine snarled.

Stollar looked at the prickly beast and folded his arms. “Your name ain’t on this seat.”

The porcupine glared at Stollar, but ultimately snarled as he stood up and changed seats. The alopid sighed and rubbed his head.

“I know what you’re about to do.”

“No…no, you don’t. You’ve no—”

“We know about Gobor Grizzer. We know he’s the Chief of Police and we know he’s corrupt. We’re here to stop all the shit he’s been up to.”

“ _We_?”

“There’s an associate here with me, bounty hunter. He’s following Grizzer now.” Stollar turned and faced the feline. “You understand? You don’t have to do this. Whatever he’s threatening you with, whatever he’s done, trust me. You’ve no need to worry about him any longer.”

The cat took a deep breath before he sniffled and wiped his nose. “My home’s gone. My family is dead. That…that monster who calls himself a cop? He…he had his dogs place bombs in my neighborhood…told me if I didn’t ‘submit’ to him, he’d kill everyone. So…I did what he asked…and he blew up my neighborhood anyway…”

Stollar scoffed. “You selfish bastard. So your life’s in ruins. That makes it okay to ruin all these other innocent lives on this bus?”

“You don’t understand,” the cat said, glaring at Stollar as tears began to run down his face. “Do…do you know what it’s like to be raped by a _male_? You’ve…any idea…can you possibly imagine how degrading that is?”

“No, and I don’t care.”

The cat looked away and chuckled wryly as he wiped his tears away. “Course…of course you don’t care. You people never _do_ care…I’m just an objective to you, not an anthro who had a family once…who still had his dignity intact.”

“I _do_ care. That’s why I’m talking to you now and I didn’t just cut your throat open. And now you’re being a hypocrite. You say I only see everything as an objective? What are you doing right now? Do _you_ see that teenage couple sleeping together up there, or that mother who’s trying to take care of her pup, or that black bear up there who looks like he needs to lose fifty pounds? No, you don’t. You just see a ‘target’ that Gobor told you to destroy. So don’t gimme any of that bullshit.”

The cat paused for a moment before he sniffled. “Maybe I’m doing this…so Gobor won’t blow up another neighbor…maybe I’m doing this…because if I don’t, Gobor will set off a bomb in an area much more crowded than this bus. Did…did _that_ thought cross your mind?”

Stollar’s eyes widened. “ _Shit_.”

“Tell me…will your associate find the other bombs in time? Can you ensure you’ll prevent another tragedy from occurring?”

“Look…if you tell me where the other bombs are—”

“S’what I thought. …I’m sorry,” the cat said, standing up. “I have to do this.”

When Stollar saw the shorthair cat stand up, he knew there was no reasoning with the feline. He shouted as he stood up and rammed his head into his midriff, while the cat grunted and began to pull out his detonator. After the cat pulled out the device and tried to press the button on it, Stollar grabbed his arms and tried to pry it out of his fingers. Some of the civilians could see the two of them tussling with each other and began to gasp or murmur. The cat punched Stollar in the eye and shoved him backwards, while Stollar threw himself forward and lashed at the feline’s face and chest with his nails before yanking his zipper downwards, showing off the bomb.

“Stop the bus! STOP THE BUS!”

“HE’S GOT A BOMB!”

Everyone started screaming and rushing away from the feline, while Stollar threw his short body into the anthro and reached up, dragging his nails against the cat’s arm and tearing open some of his veins. Yowling, the cat unsheathed his claws and swiped at Stollar’s face before kicking him backwards against a window. The cat stood straight as the bus screeched to a halt and civilians began to scream.

“LONG LIVE THE LIBERATORS!” the cat bellowed.

Huffing, the cat held the detonator and pushed down on the button.

“NO!” Stollar screamed.

Everyone expected the world to go dark. They expected to be engulfed in flames, mere seconds before getting immolated. But nothing happened. Panting, the cat looked at his detonator and pushed it two more times in confusion. Nothing happened.

“Shit…”

The cat yowled when the porcupine from earlier got out his seat and tackled him to the floor. He punched the cat in the throat two times before breaking his nose and spitting in his face.

“Fuckin’ terrorist.”

Growling, Stollar wiped some blood off his face before grabbing the porcupine and shoving him off the cat. “Get off him!”

As the porcupine moved away from the cat, Stollar bent down and started to remove the vest from the cat. As he probed the explosives, he felt around the rectangular lumps and started to raise his eyebrow.

“…Wait a minute.” Stollar examined one of the explosive bricks and frowned. “This…this is clay!”

The alien slammed the brick on the floor before he stood up and groped his earpiece. He watched as the bus driver opened up the door and started to let some of the anthros off the bus.

“Cale, it’s a decoy! The bomb isn’t real!”

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah! They put a bunch of blocks of clay in the vest and made it look like C-4!”

“That doesn’t make any sense. Why would they force someone to be a false suicide bomber?”

“…Oh shit, I don’t think this was the real target,” Stollar said as he hurried off the bus and stepped outside. “That cat said he was doing this because if he didn’t, Gobor and his goons would blow up a bigger target!”

“Does he know what the other targets are?”

“I’m gonna have…wait.” Stollar looked over in the direction of the bus. He narrowed his eyes for a moment before crouching down and looking beneath the vehicle. Something was flashing green under the bus. Eyes wide, Stollar looked around the street, with traffic building up since the bus was blocking one of the main lanes. Somewhere in the distance, Stollar spotted the same canine on the orange motorcycle he saw before getting on the bus. He was standing several yards in the distance and holding a small, rectangular device in his paws.

“Oh fuck—there’s a bomb on the bus! EVERYONE GET AWAY—”

He didn’t remember the explosion. He didn’t remember getting blown backwards so hard and so fast that his body bounced off a car’s door and cracked the glass. He briefly remembered lying on the ground, groaning and trying to stand up, his ears ringing. Some anthros were screaming and crying hysterically, and the bus—and some nearby vehicles—had burst into flames. Stollar tried to stand up, but someone with big, thick paws walked over to him and picked up his body. By the time he realized he was being thrown into the back of a police vehicle, his body lost consciousness.

___________________________________________

“Stollar, come in,” Cale demanded.

No one answered. Cale looked ahead and saw Grizzer standing at a four-way intersection, waiting for the light to change. Scowling, Cale scratched his ear and called him again.

“Stollar, come in. Sounded like I heard something explode down there. …Stollar?”

Still no answer. Frustrated, Cale stomped forwards and approached Gobor, pretending to be some random civilian walking about on the sidewalk. As he stood beside the pit bull, the canine’s cell phone began to ring.

“Yeah?” Gobor growled as he answered the call.

Cale shifted a bit closer to Gobor, hoping he’d be able to hear a few words over the call.

“Excellent. The target pussy out on us? No? …Oh, fuck. Did it go off ‘fore anyone left? Hmph…fuck it. Good enough. Liberators’ll get blamed for it, so it don’t fuckin’ matter. …Keep him for now; I’ll handle it when I’m back in the tower.”

Gobor ended his phone call before huffing and shaking his head. “Fuckin’ idiots.”

Cale looked up at the burly dog and blinked. “Bad day?”

“Hmph. Fuck off.”

“Trust me buddy, I’ve been there. Sometimes it’s better if you talk about your prob—”

“I said fuck off, you cunt-fucking cat.”

The light changed, and Gobor began to walk into the street.

“Or what?” Cale yelled. “You gonna shove me into a stall and fuck me in the ass?”

The pit bull stopped walking. He curled the fingers on his right paw into a fist before snarling and turning around, stomping back over to the lion.

“You listen to me you fucking cunt. You’ve any—”

Cale slowly removed his firearm and pressed it against Gobor’s groin. The canine looked down at the plasma pistol before looking at Cale with a scowl.

“Right here? Fuckin’ right here ‘round all these anthros?”

“No one’s paying attention,” Cale stated. “No one wants to get involved. Quite frankly, I’m fine with blowing your balls off right here and watching you writhe around on the ground crying like a little bitch. Be real nice if someone records the Chief of Police whining hysterically, emasculated.”

“You don’t know who the fuck I am. If you did—”

“Gobor Grizzer. Former serial rapist from Tero. Former soldier. Chief of Police of Knochen City. The Terrorist within the Quintuple Cartel.”

Gobor smirked as he stared at the lion. “Heh. You’ve done your homework. S’pose you deserve a fuckin’ cookie or some shit.”

“Okay…so this is how this is gonna go down. I’m gonna—”

“No.” Gobor lifted his paw and pointed in Cale’s face. “You see, I run this shit. I run this fuckin’ city. You kill me, you die. You arrest me, you die. It’s very fuckin’ simple: lower your gun, and _maybe_ I’ll just throw you in jail. Maybe I won’t, um, ‘shove you into a stall and fuck you in the ass.’ Sound good?”

“Negative.”

Gobor lowered his paw. “I know about you too, Cale Tomlik.”

Cale blinked and forced himself not to say anything or react emotionally. Gobor sniffed as he poked the lion’s tattoo.

“Military. Cephalopodan Strikers. Exposed to the…what was it?” Gobor snapped his fingers a few times. “Oh right, that T1-A5 pathogen, or whatever the fuck’s it called! Been a few years…you still shit properly? Your eyes real or fake?”

Gobor leaned down and got in the lion’s face. “Your cock still working?”

“Enough to piss on your gravestone.”

Gobor grunted as he reached down and stuffed his paw into his pants, vigorously rubbing his testicles and penis for a moment. “Mm…you real cute kitty. Got a whole lotta meat on them bones.”

Cale snorted as he smacked Gobor’s paw and pointed his gun back at the dog’s groin. “This ain’t the time.”

“Yes, it is! You see, if you obviously know about all the shit I’m into, then you know I like to blow shit up. Maybe I got some contingency plan set in motion in case something happens to me. Maybe I _already_ blew some shit up, and I’m gonna do it again. Maybe if I don’t call someone, one of my men is gonna blow shit up for me. I gotta dumb this fuckin’ shit down any more for you?”

_Goddamn it_ , Cale thought. He started to lower his plasma gun and snarled.

“That’s what I fuckin’ thought.”

“Where’s Stollar?”

“Fuck is Stollar? …Oh, was he some alopid li’l fucker?! Hehe, my guy just told me he picked up some alien who tried to stop my—sorry, the Liberators—from bombing that bus earlier! Now I _could_ just kill him, but he wasn’t attacking my officers, so I’ll just arrest him. Maybe I’ll interrogate him…maybe I’ll see if he’s allied with the Liberators.”

Gobor leaned down and got in Cale’s face again. “Maybe I’ll bend him over and fuck him against a table. Break him in ‘fore his sorry ass gets hauled into prison. Whatcha think of that?”

“How do you know I care about Stollar?”

“Because I’m still talking. Because you know that a lone anthro can’t just kill someone like _me_ without getting fucked over. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaand because I’m smarter than you are! I’ve met bitches like you before; you _act_ like you don’t give a fuck. But you do. So just stop with this whole stoic, raw and gritty persona you’re trying to don, bend over, and let me fuck you so we’ll _all_ be happy.”

Cale gritted his teeth as he raised his pistol again. “What if I’m willing to let Stollar die to accomplish my mission?”

Gobor exhaled and rolled his eyes. “Fine, fine. You got me! Guess you’ll just have to fuckin’ arrest my ass and let tens of thousands of innocent people die!”

“…What?”

“Eh.” Gobor waved his paw. “It ain’t important. Go on. You can take me in.” The dog slowly turned around and put his paws behind his back, wiggling his fingers at the lion and chuckling.

“Go ahead! Fuckin’ arrest me! Watch what happens.”

Cale lowered his gun again and swore softly. “Fucker.”

The pit bull turned back around and snorted. “S’what I fuckin’ thought. Now then!” Gobor took out a pair of handcuffs and started to open them before gesturing for Cale to hold out his paws. “I’m taking you in. _You_ just threatened a police officer! Now I gotta interrogate you, find out if you’re part of the Liberators, if you were going to assassinate me, blah blah blah. You fucking know how it goes.”

Scowling, Cale held out his paws and waited for the dog to handcuff him. Just as Gobor started to put on the cuffs, he grasped the lion’s right arm and frowned.

“Hold up…mm.” Gobor squeezed Cale’s right arm a few times and realized it was far too hard to be composed of flesh and bones. “Prosthetic. Hmm. Well these are fuckin’ pointless; you can just break these.”

Cale shouted when Gobor punched him in the face so hard he fell to the ground and felt like his nasal cavity just shattered. Several civilians gasped or backed away after seeing Cale fall to the ground, and Gobor promptly raised a paw and smiled.

“S’okay! S’okay everybody! Guy’s a criminal! I got it all handled!”

Cale groaned as he rolled around on the ground for a bit, wincing and trying to sit back up, while Gobor crouched down and snorted in his face.

“You fuckin’ had me. Shame you ain’t got enough balls,” Gobor whispered.

And then Cale lost consciousness when Gobor punched him in the head once again.


	11. The Failures

Cale blinked as he sat down in front of the metal table, his nose busted and one of his teeth loosening within his mouth. The feline grunted as he rolled his tongue around his mouth, pushing the tongue against the loose tooth. He grimaced as he dug into his mouth and yanked it out, exhaling and tossing it on the floor. Up ahead, Cale could see the mirror that was really a window some of the police officers could see through. He blinked a few times before leaning back in his chair and looking up at the security camera. It was on and recording everything in the room, but Cale figured that Grizzer and his officers could fabricate the footage if they needed to. Frustrated, Cale leaned forward and slid his paws against the table.

“You can go ahead and kill us now if you want to. Not like the public’s gonna give a damn,” he said.

No one said anything, as Cale suspected. Before the lion could say anything else, the door to the interrogation room opened, and two police officers shoved a familiar alien inside. Cale’s eyes widened as he stood up and looked at Stollar, who had his hands handcuffed behind his back.

“Stollar?”

Cale grunted as he stumbled over towards the two. The two police officers—a heavyset boar and a monitor lizard—glared at the two of them.

“Sit tight. The Chief is gonna have a word with you later,” the boar responded.

“Sure. A ‘word’ with us,” Cale responded dryly.

The monitor lizard hissed. “Your own damn fault. You shouldn’t have assaulted a police officer,” he said, before glaring at Stollar. “And _you_ shouldn’t have bombed that bus. Damn martyrs, always thinking you’re being noble by taking innocent lives in the name of glory.”

Stollar and Cale stared at the lizard’s devious smile, but before either of them could do anything, he slammed the door shut. After it locked, Cale looked at Stollar and frowned. His pants looked like they had been burned and torn, and his face was scratched up and bruised. The alopid rolled his tongue around his mouth as well, and spat out a tooth on the floor. He scoffed as he looked at it before looking up at Cale.

“So. Captured again,” Cale said.

“Seems like it,” Stollar growled.

“Least I have some company this time around.”

Stollar exhaled as he started looking around the room, trying to figure out a way to escape or break out of his handcuffs. “C’mon, maybe we can break this window over here.”

“No, Stollar.”

“You serious? You know these damn things ain’t mirrors.”

“Then you should also know that there are some steamed police officers on the other side observing us. Trying to escape is pointless when they can just shoot us through the glass.”

Stollar blinked. “So what, we just sit here?”

Cale shrugged. “Not much else we can do.”

The alopid huffed as he started to pace around and shook his head. “How’d they know? How’d they figure out we were both working together? How’d they even capture you?! I was nowhere near you!”

“Confronted Grizzer in the middle of the street. It backfired.”

“What do you mean you ‘confronted’ him?”

“You weren’t responding. I thought you were dead. So I took out my gun and pointed it at his crotch and threatened him.”

Stollar stared at Cale in disbelief. “You pulled a gun on the Chief of Police in a crowded city. In _public_. And didn’t think that would backfire.”

Cale rubbed his face. “I didn’t think—”

“Stopstopstopstopstopstop…there. That’s all you gotta say. You don’t need to continue; you’ve finished that sentence.”

Stollar huffed as he leaned against the wall. “Goddamn it, Cale. How many times is this gonna happen?!”

“We’ll get out—”

“No, Cale! You can’t keep doing this shit! You can’t keep compromising your missions and putting your life in danger because ‘oh, I’ll figure it out later.’ That’s not how this shit works! How many fuck-ups are you gonna have to experience before that gets through your deteriorating skull?!”

Cale flicked his eyes at the window before looking at Stollar. “Hmph. Course. Interrogation tactic. Turn allies against each other, try to break them.”

“I don’t give a shit about those assholes behind the glass! This is _me_ talking, Cale; no one’s forcing my hand! How hard is it for you to just _stop_ and think things through?! Can you just for once do something that doesn’t result in someone else getting injured or murdered? Did you already forget about what you did to Shannon back in LynKaster City? Did you forget about all those people you abandoned in Thurgor Town to get raped and murdered by those beasts?”

“No, Stollar, I haven’t forgotten,” Cale snarled.

Stollar scoffed. “Course you haven’t. You know about all the shit you’ve done; you just don’t care. You bagged Milz Dillvor and you bagged Dr. Vogar Oblingor. Couple hundred innocents died in the background, but eh. Not important. Mission accomplished. Good for you, Cale!”

“You shut the fuck up!” Cale bellowed.

The alopid blinked for a moment and kept his mouth shut. Just as he was going to open it and say something else, Cale snarled as he walked over to the alien.

“That’s your problem. That’s the problem with _all_ of you ‘civilians,’ all of you weak and inferior sacks of meat who expect people like _us_ to protect you. You don’t know what it’s like to be in our shoes. You praise us, you tell us ‘thank you,’ you tell us ‘we’re so proud of your service,’ but it’s all just hollow _bullshit_. You just say that to make us feel better. But the moment we fuck up, you’re more than happy to send us to the gallows! You gleefully stick us in the same category as the monsters who are _directly_ responsible for all this carnage, neglecting all of our previous valiant services! Have you already forgotten that _I_ stopped an assassin from murdering any more innocent people? Have you already forgotten that _I_ stopped a demented scientist from experimenting on any more innocent civilians?”

“No, but—”

“‘But’ is correct, Stollar! You fucked up too. I gave you a mission and you screwed it up. I told you to stop that bomber by any means necessary. And you failed. Innocent people are dead because _you_ failed, not me, Stollar!”

“I was trying—”

“That’s not good enough! Failure was not an option, Stollar! How many people died on that bus? Fifteen? Thirty? You could’ve saved all those people and you didn’t!”

“Shut up…”

Cale narrowed his eyes. “They’re dead because of _you_ , Stollar. You only had one job, and you fucked it up. Now _you’re_ the one who has—”

“I SAID SHUT UP!”

Cale shouted and stumbled backwards when Stollar slammed his head against the lion’s abdomen. He coughed and moved away, grunting and wheezing as he looked at the alopid and noticed his dark eyes were watering.

“Don’t you think I know all that?” Stollar asked, his voice cracking. “I…I tried, Cale. I really did; I…I didn’t know they had a decoy. I didn’t know they already put a bomb _on_ the bus. I tried to warn them, Cale…I did what I could with the resources I had. You don’t have to punish me for trying to prevent something I didn’t set in motion to begin with.”

Cale took a deep breath as he stood straight up and folded his arms. “Don’t feel good, do it? Getting blamed for something that you didn’t cause just because what you planned didn’t go the way you planned.”

Stollar sniffled and shook his head as a few tears ran down his face. “I-I tried…I tried to save them, Cale…”

Sighing, Cale walked over to the short alopid and wrapped his arms around him. “I know, Stollar, I know.”

Cale embraced Stollar as he started sniffling and sobbing in a muffled voice, crying softly against Cale’s stomach. He rubbed Stollar’s back for a bit, trying his best to comfort him while also thinking about how they would get out of their current predicament. Whether he wanted to admit it or not, Stollar was right. Cale did screw up again—as did Stollar, and now both of them were Gobor’s prisoners. After the alopid finished sniffling, Cale let go of him and wiped off his face a bit.

“So…so what do we do now?” Stollar asked.

“What I’ve been doing since this whole Cartel hunt started. We let the situation play itself out and try to come out on top.”

“That’s…that’s not really a good plan.”

“Never said it was.”

Stollar just stared at Cale’s straight face before sighing and leaning backwards against the wall. Cale sat back down in front of the table again, and the duo waited for another ten minutes before the door opened up, revealing four officers this time.

“All right, move. You try anything, lion, and—”

“Yeah, yeah, I gotcha. Don’t need to bother finishing.”

As Cale stood up from the table and headed into the corridor, two officers stomped inside and grabbed Stollar, roughly shoving him out before putting a gun to his head. A police officer was standing behind Stollar, as well as in front of him, making sure to keep him boxed in. Cale, meanwhile, stood in front of the other two officers who were gripping their weapons tightly, eager to shoot Cale if he gave them any reason to. He turned around and looked at the boar and monitor lizard he saw earlier, one of whom gestured to start walking forward. He nodded, and the six anthros began to move their way through the skyscraper. Cale gazed around the hallway, taking note of some of the rooms that led to stairways, offices, or even the bathrooms. When the group reached the end of the hallway and took a left, they found themselves in a spacious room with some filing cabinets in it, and a few canines who were busy sorting through files on their desks.

“Those the guys who set off that bomb earlier?” asked one officer.

The boar snorted. “S’it matter? Just keep monitoring the situation; Chief Grizzer will give a press conference or whatever when he’s ready. He’s gotta ‘interrogate’ the suspects first.”

“Oh,” said the Great Dane, before he resumed sorting through the files. “Y’all have fun with that.”

The anthros and alien walked for another minute before they disappeared into an elevator. One of the officers hit the button that took the lift all the way up to the top floor. Once the doors opened up, Cale and Stollar were shoved into a pristine office that had a musky, canid smell to it and questionable stains on the carpet. Two of the officers remained in the elevator and went back down to the lower levels, while the boar and monitor lizard stayed behind Cale and Stollar, making sure that they didn’t try anything suspicious. But that wasn’t going to happen—not with Gobor Grizzer himself leaning against his desk and staring at one of the monitors on the wall.

“Huh. Remarkable. ‘Bout twenty casualties reported, quite a few wounded. They saying them Liberator fuckers caused it,” Grizzer responded, before smirking at Stollar and Cale. “Ain’t that a fuckin’ tragedy?”

Stollar spat on the floor. “Only tragedy here is that name plate on your desk. Scribble out the word ‘Chief’ and replace it with ‘Rapist.’ Or ‘Degenerate.’ Whichever one works for you.”

Grizzer rolled his eyes. “Is that seriously the best fuckin’ insult you got?”

“I did hit my head when that bomb went off. Brain’s still murky.”

“Whatever. Sit ‘em down.”

The monitor lizard and boar started to push Cale and Stollar forward, up until Stollar stammered and glared at the reptile shoving him. “I can walk, damn it!”

The reptile didn’t care, and shoved Stollar forward so hard he almost tripped. Eventually, both of them reached the chairs in front of Gobor’s desk and sat down. After gazing at the two perpetrators, Gobor started to pace back and forth in front of his desk, wagging his tail.

“So. You two fuck-twits are accused of aiding and abetting the Liberators in their numerous terrorist attacks across the city. One of you,” Gobor said, pointing at Cale, “attempted to kill me. While the other,” Gobor paused, so he could point at Stollar, “is an accessory to a suicide bomber who just murdered…what? ‘Bout twenty-five people by the time they finish scooping up the bodies?”

“Sounds about right, Chief,” said the boar.

“Mm. Now that’s a fuckin’ shame,” said Gobor. “How do you two plead?”

“We’re not playing this game with you. Just kill us and be done with it,” Cale growled.

Gobor grinned. “Humor me. No reason why we can’t have fun with this!”

Cale exhaled. “Not guilty.”

“Not guilty!” Stollar shouted.

“Mm, yes. Well, I appreciate your honest. Perhaps you won’t get the death penalty,” said Gobor.

“We just said we’re not guilty!” Stollar cried.

“Really?” Gobor snapped and pointed at the boar. “Corrvin, you heard ‘em fucks say they were guilty, right?”

“S’what I heard.”

“What about you, Ekkli? What’d these ghastly fuck-heads just say to me?”

“They said they were guilty, Chief. Heard ‘em loud and clear,” hissed the monitor lizard.

Gobor chuckled as he leaned against his desk. “You see? Got two witnesses here who will back up my story. The rest of the department will do the same.”

“And if they don’t, you’re just gonna rape ‘em ‘til they listen to you, right?” Stollar snarled.

Gobor huffed. “C’mon now, Stollar. I don’t rape _everyone_. That’s a horrible stereotype. Sometimes I just shove a broom stick up their ass!”

Stollar closed his eyes and took a deep breath. “Okay…obviously you haven’t killed us for a reason. Lemme guess: you gonna start gloating about your dastardly evil plan, is that correct?”

“I can’t do that; you’ll end up spoiling it. I’ll start gloating _after_ my plan succeeds. Fuckin’ good enough for you?”

“Swell,” Stollar said flatly.

“See, your buddy Cale here let slip that he knew I was part of the Cartel. Now my boss informed me that some lion named Cale Tomlik was allegedly behind Milz and Vogar getting arrested…god I can practically hear that twat screaming ‘it’s Dr. Oblingor’ in my ear now…fucker,” Gobor growled. “Anyway. Cale knows quite a bit about our Cartel! So I’m curious, just _how_ much do you know?”

Cale didn’t answer. He looked around Gobor’s office, examining his desk and the various pictures on his wall. Squinting, the bounty hunter could see that all the photos on the wall depicted various anthros wearing their football uniform. Meanwhile, Stollar looked around the room as well, hoping to find some kind of instrument he could use to attack the two cops behind him, or Gobor at least. There was nothing on the desk except for a computer, Gobor’s name plate, and one of his radios. The glass panes behind Gobor’s desk showed off a pleasant view of the city from up above, but Stollar assumed the panes were several inches thick. The red carpet and diamond-pattern design on the wallpaper didn’t reveal anything. Stollar couldn’t even see a pen or a paper clip he could use to try and pick the handcuffs’ locks. Gobor noticed Stollar looking around the room and blinked.

“You trying to find a hidden passageway or some shit? Maybe a knife or some kind of fireplace poker to stab me with?” the pit bull asked.

“No, I’m just admiring your hideous wallpaper,” Stollar chimed back.

“Hmph. Fucker.”

“No, not at all—that would be _you_ , Grizzer. Well, you and this thick cheetah we saw in the bar.”

Stollar turned and stared at Cale. “You remember, Cale? That real good-looking cheetah who was all chunky and said a few…what’s the word…enticing things to us?”

Cale looked over at Stollar and smirked gently. “Oh yeah. I remember _exactly_ what that cheetah told me.”

“I didn’t fuckin’ bring you twats here so you could discuss some thick ass you saw in the club. I’m in a good mood tonight; usually I just start pulling your fuckin’ pants down or beating your skulls in. So I ask again: how much do you know about the Cartel?”

Cale shrugged. “Enough. I know all of your names, except the Baron’s. I know you’re all responsible for drug dealing, corruption, assassinations, manufacturing chemicals used for warfare, etc. And I know you’re trying to gas an entire moon using a pathogen that Vogar was creating.”

“That’s it?” Gobor asked.

Cale shrugged again. “Maybe. Maybe not.”

Corrvin looked at the two prisoners and snorted. “They lyin’, Chief. There’s no way they’d straight-up tell you everything they know like that. They must know we’d kill ‘em the second they told us!”

Stollar and Cale both looked at Gobor and smirked, while Gobor started to scowl at the individuals. He was tempted to take out his handgun when he backed away from the chairs they sat in and chuckled.

“Oh…I see. Heh. You fuckers wanna play with me, huh? You…you planned this, didn’t you?”

“Huh? No, we didn’t—”

“You shut up,” Gobor said, pointing at Stollar. “You just _conveniently_ bumped into me in the bathroom, didn’t you? And then suddenly, you two fuckers try to sabotage my bombing on that bus and attempt to kill me. Uh-uh…nah. Some bullshit right there, that is. You fuckers been watching me this entire time, haven’t you? You’re working with them fuckin’ Liberators, aren’t you?!”

“Maybe.” Cale shrugged. “Maybe not.”

Gobor nodded and grinned. He grabbed his handgun and slowly pulled it from his holster.

“Okay, okay,” Cale stammered. “You wanna know what we _don’t_ know? Them pictures up there. All those guys in football gear—they ain’t your sons, obviously. You used to be one of them star athletes, right?”

Ekkli rolled his eyes and groaned. “Chief. They’re distracting you, trying to change the subject. Don’t play—”

“Shut it, Ekkli. I’m the fuckin’ boss ‘round here; I can answer whatever fuckin’ question I wanna answer. I got time.”

_That’s what you think_ , Cale thought. Gobor lowered his handgun and nodded, smiling. “Yeah…yeah! Was top of my team back in the day!”

“Lemme guess: quarterback?”

“Linebacker. Yeah, that’s my whole team up there!”

“There’s fourteen pictures though. Thought football—”

“ _Technically_ , that’s American football. Regular football is that one with the white and black ball people kick around. Lotta people tend to get ‘em both confused,” Stollar interrupted.

“That pansy-ass shit ain’t no fuckin’ football. It’s _soccer_ , dumbass,” snarled Gobor.

Stollar chuckled. “No, it’s football.”

“Soccer.”

“Football.”

“Soccer!”

“Football.”

“MUTHAFUCKA IT’S MUTHAFUCKIN’ SOCCER!”

Stollar blinked. “Foot—”

Gobor took out his gun and fired it between Stollar’s legs, hitting the chair only a few inches away from Stollar’s groin. The alopid yelped and started panting, his eyes wide as he looked at the bullet hole dangerously close to his crotch.

“I’ll be quiet now,” Stollar whimpered.

“Good! You got some shit to say, kitty?!” Gobor shouted, aiming his gun at him.

Cale shook his head.

“Fine…now then. Everyone up in them pictures _is_ my team back in high school. Some of them ‘quit’ due to mysterious circumstances.” Gobor paused so he could lick his teeth and curl his left paw into a fist. “Still got all them photos though! Always just like to sit here and gaze at ‘em.”

“What for?”

Stollar turned and looked at the clock on the wall. He noticed it was a little past eleven before he looked at the glass panes behind Gobor’s desk. Ekkli saw Stollar looking at the clock, but didn’t openly comment about it. Meanwhile, Gobor looked over at the framed photos on the wall and exhaled.

“Always loved football, y’know?”

Stollar opened his mouth. Gobor glared at the alopid. He shut his mouth again and let the burly canine continue.

“Everyone thinks that football is just running around on a dirty field and tackling your opponents to the ground. But it’s so much more than that. There’s lots of planning and tactics involved, all that shit. Not much different from chess really. One fuck-up could cost the entire game, and sometimes you gotta use them ‘special pieces’ to fuck over your opponent. Was real nice, being able to shove people to the ground on purpose while also usin’ my brain to help my teammates.”

“So what, they were your ‘brothers in arms’ or something?” Cale inquired.

Gobor grinned widely, while Stollar looked at the clock again. The dog rubbed his nose before he walked over to the photos and pointed to an image of a Rottweiler. “This guy right here? Had a bit of an odor problem; didn’t like to shower much. Lemme tell you, nothing excited me more than putting on my white and black uniform and crowding ‘round my teammates. All of us wearing those tight uniforms, all running and panting, breathing heavily, sweating like crazy…all them bodily fluids on our faces…all that musk and heat…”

Gobor growled deeply as he started rubbing his crotch. “Now lookit what you’ve gone and done—I’m gonna get hard at this rate!”

“We’ve all had those feelings before. They’re just _feelings_ , that’s it.”

The pit bull shook his head. “Bullshit. I couldn’t stop fantasizing about my teammates. That Rottweiler up there, Reggie? Ass stank something fierce; we always joked that he never wiped after takin’ a shit. But I knew it was just his natural odors. So one day, I meet Reggie in the locker room after we finish practicing. All the teammates go home, while I tell Reggie to stay behind so I can show him something.”

As Gobor was telling his story, he reached down and grunted as he unzipped his pants. Then he slowly reached inside and pulled out his penis, which was now fully erect and releasing a small amount of pre-ejaculate. Cale and Stollar scowled.

“Of course, Reggie has the same shocked reaction you fucks got! But I tell Reggie, ‘It’s all right, bruh! It’s okay! I just wanna have a better look at your ass. You’ve seen my dick; now lemme see your ass.’ He thinks we’re just fuckin’ around. So he turns around, bends over, and yanks his pants down so he can moon me. ‘Here’s your ass, asshole! Hope you don’t mind the stank!’ …I didn’t mind. Not _one_ bit.”

Stollar looked over at the fourteen photos before glaring at Gobor. “Your entire fuckin’ team? Are you shitting me?!”

Gobor shook his head. “Four of ‘em transferred schools. Obviously they were ‘upset’ over what I did to ‘em.”

“Fourteen…are you fuck—how did it even get that far?!”

“How you think? Not many of ‘em was fags. Ones who were didn’t wanna admit it. They let it slip that they got butt-fucked, everyone in school would call ‘em a faggot. Everyone would look at ‘em as ‘that football player who got ass-raped.’ So they kept their mouths shut. And I kept finding different ways to fuck ‘em. Barney over there hated me, challenged me to a wrestling match after school, just the two of us. I won, obviously. And instead of offering my paw to stand him up, I yanked his trousers down. That salamander, Skovuu? He always had a toothpick in his mouth—oral fixation, he called it. So one day in the bathrooms, I shoved him in a stall, pulled out his toothpick, and gave him somethin’ else to suck on!”

Stollar snarled and looked away. “All right, we get the picture.”

“Uh-uh, no, no, no—you fuckers wanna know more about me? Well now you’re gonna know!”

Stollar looked at the clock again and huffed. Ekkli walked closer to his chair, his hand moving closer to his pistol.

“Last guy up there, thick black bear named Whitley? Whiny ma’fucka had depression, unfortunately. And apparently, I ‘triggered’ it after pinning him against the walls in the showers and fuckin’ him. Tch…fucker ruined _everything_. That asshole killed himself a week later, threw himself off the roof of the school! Which didn’t bother me; I had several other teammates to fuck. But as I found out in a few days, when I went to football practice, the coach and the cops were waiting for me. Turns out, Whitley left a suicide note where he confessed that I raped him!”

“I’m assuming the other students came forward.”

Gobor rolled his eyes as he stuffed his now flaccid penis back into his pants. “Didn’t bother lyin’ ‘bout it. Figured they’d reduce my sentence if I told the truth.”

“And you’re just fine brandishing your criminal record around for everyone to see?” Cale asked, his voice raising. “I shouldn’t be surprised. I really shouldn’t. But it seems like _every time_ I run into another asshole like you, I question whether or not us anthros should be rendered extinct.”

“Don’t play that fuckin’ game with me, bitch! I’m better’n you are, and I always _will_ be!” Gobor shouted.

“Cale never raped an _entire football team_ and inadvertently led to one of them committing suicide,” Stollar snarled.

“Striker,” Gobor said, before grinning.

The alien huffed and shook his head. “God, I’m so fuckin’ tired of hearing that word! ‘Striker this, Striker that, Striker, Striker, Striker!’ Who the fuck cares?! He could’ve been a fuckin’ prostitute who specialized in Cleveland Steamers; why the fuck does it matter?!”

The pit bull snorted. “So if I told you that the Strikers specialized in assassinations, your bitch-ass wouldn’t care?”

“No.”

“So if I told you that the Strikers specialized in fueling genocides and helping dictators rise to power so they could allow terrorists to rape, pillage and burn as they please, you wouldn’t care?”

“No!”

“Sooooooooooo if I told you that the Strikers specialized in raping babies and punching pregnant women in the belly, you wouldn’t care?”

“NO! Is Cale raping babies right now? Is Cale helping dictators now? Is he assassinating innocent people right now? No, he’s not! Everyone in the Quintuple Cartel is! Who Cale _was_ and who he is _now_ are two very different things, so don’t you dare shove him in the same category as you assholes!”

Gobor nodded gently before turning and looking at Cale, who was breathing quietly and looking at the floor, as if he was self-conscious.

“You know,” Gobor said as he walked over in front of Cale and crouched down. “I _despise_ people like you. You keep runnin’ around acting like you changed, but you haven’t. You just threw a bed of flowers over a pile of manure. Hehe, but trust me, I can still smell that shit brewin’ in you.”

“You’ve no idea—”

“Yeah, I do,” Gobor said, interrupting Cale. “You _think_ you’re the hero, but you’re not. You’re not even a good person. You’re a disgusting, grimy, repugnant asshole, just like me!”

“I am _nothing_ like you,” Cale snarled.

“Hmmmmm.” Gobor rubbed his chin. “We’re both fags. Don’t deny it; I know a fag when I see one. We both used to be in the military. We’re both brawny and ain’t shy about showing it off. We’re both competent fighters. We’re both smart. Fuck’s sake—both of us got fuckin’ halitosis! Trust me; I noticed. I just didn’t say shit about it. Betcha lotta people be ‘subtly’ telling you to go visit a dentist or some shit, don’t they?”

Cale looked away, prompting the pit bull to stand up straight so he could lean against his desk.

“Y’see? We’re the same! Only fuckin’ difference is that you _think_ you’re the good guy!”

“I _am_ the good guy,” Cale barked.

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am.”

“No, you’re not.”

“Yes, I am!”

“No, you’re not.”

“YES, I AM!” Cale barked.

Gobor grinned. “No you fuckin’ ain’t.”

Cale started gritting his teeth and unsheathed his claws. He gripped his chair arms firmly, tearing at the material to the point where Gobor could hear him scratching against it. Stollar looked at the clock again and swallowed, while Ekkli walked over to Stollar and finally took his gun out.

“Who are you trying to convince here? Me or yourself? See, with me, I don’t shy away from the facts! Yeah…yeah, I raped my whole fuckin’ football team, and I’d do it again if I had the chance! I was in the military, just like you, and I killed lotsa people I shouldn’t have! I managed to take over this city with the Cartel’s help, and now I can do whatever the fuck I want! Steal some drugs, frame a couple for something they didn’t do, blow up a shopping mall because I didn’t like the clothes they were selling—I can do it all! I _have_ done it all!”

Gobor grunted as he sat on his desk and folded his arms. “Ain’t a fan of changing my clothes—real boring, worrying about shopping. I don’t brush my teeth—ain’t no point. Breath gon’ be stinkin’ in the morning again anyway, so I don’t bother. Bitches just gonna have to deal with it! I fart whenever I wanna, piss on the floor of restaurants, steal candy instead of paying for ‘em—I could go on and on baby!”

“We get the picture—”

“NO YOU FUCKIN’ DON’T!” Gobor bellowed, interrupting Stollar. “I’m the ‘bad guy,’ remember? Yet here I sit, absolving myself of all my fuckin’ sins, being one hundred percent open and honest with you all! I’ve told you things some of my own fuckin’ employees don’t know. What’s this fucker sitting next to you told you?!”

“That’s your problem, Gobor. This ‘fucker’ sitting next to me hasn’t told me anything. He doesn’t have to.”

“WHY?! THE FUCK?! NOT?!” Gobor screamed.

“Because Cale Tomlik has _shown_ me that I can trust him. I could give a fuck about what Cale _tells_ me. I’ve seen all the shit he’s done over the past couple years—hell, the past couple _weeks_. I know exactly what kind of person Cale is, and I’m fine with that. I’ve only known you personally for a few hours, and you’ve _shown_ me that you’re nothing but a remorseless, egotistical, vile rapist who uses his power to murder people and commit acts of terrorism. So I don’t care what you _tell_ me about what you _think_ you know about Cale Tomlik. He’s a better person than you will ever be. So you just sit there on your desk and you be quiet.”

Gobor froze. He just stared at Stollar and Cale with wide eyes, repeatedly flicking his eyes back and forth between them. They knew that Gobor was trying to think of another comeback, of another condescending series of words to say to them, but the words wouldn’t come out. He even stammered when he tried to say something out loud, unable to come up with any phrase. Cale and Stollar looked visibly relaxed, while Gobor was struggling to say or do anything to break Cale and Stollar. The alopid turned and looked at the clock again, only to yelp when Ekkli came around and pointed the barrel of his gun between Stollar’s eyes.

“Enough. Enough of this shit! Chief, kill ‘em—right now. They’re planning something! This one here keeps looking at the clock! They’ve been stalling you, dumbass!”

Gobor turned and glared icily at Ekkli. “What did you call me?”

The reptile realized what he just said and cowered. “I-I mean, Chief…Chief, they were—they’ve been wasting time. This…this was part of their plan! Why else would they be talking so goddamn much?!”

Corrvin snorted and nodded. “Got a point there, Chief.”

Gobor looked down at the two prisoners and saw Cale smirk. He immediately took out his handgun and walked up to Cale, pointing it at his forehead.

“If you kill us you’ll never know when the Liberators attack!” Stollar quickly spat out.

Snarling, Gobor turned and looked at Stollar before saying, “I’m through _telling_ you what I’m gonna do! I’m gonna fuckin’ _show_ you fucks what’s gonna happen now!”

“Tell ‘em! CALE, TELL ‘EM!” Stollar screamed.

Cale’s smirk widened. “He’s right. Liberators contacted us. They said they were gonna take back this city. Said you painted them as ‘monstrous rebels,’ so that’s what they’re gonna be.”

Gobor gritted his teeth. “Who told you that?”

“Dunno. Cheetah. Wore a hoody. Rather fat fellow. Had a tattoo on his right paw.”

Ekkli blinked. “Chief, that sounds like Rooker. He’s one of the Liberator lieutenants.”

“THAT DON’T MEAN SHIT! He could just be spoutin’ some bullshit to save his own fuckin’ ass!”

Corrvin walked over to the Chief and snorted again. “I don’t think they’re lying. All damn day, our cars been getting hit. Someone was throwing Molotov cocktails at our guys; one of ‘em put Carson and Bauer in the hospital. That sounds like some Liberator shit right there.”

“FUCK!” Gobor shouted, taking his gun away from Cale and moving backwards, snorting so heavily that snot was flying from his nostrils.

Ekkli took his gun away from Stollar, and the alien smirked as well. Gobor folded his arms and sniffed.

“They must’ve told you a target. Where them fucker’s hittin’?”

“Maybe they told us. Maybe they didn’t,” Stollar said.

“I’m not asking again!”

Stollar exhaled and leaned back in his chair. “Oh thank _god_. Finally! We don’t have to put up with your breath any longer!”

Murmuring, Ekkli grabbed Stollar by the throat and hauled him out the chair before snarling. “Chief, you want me to shoot him in the head or in the chest?”

“Neither. Put him down in one of the interrogation rooms. Make him tell us _everything_ , right down to how fuckin’ long his cock is. You understand?”

The monitor lizard grinned widely as he hissed near Stollar’s right ear. “Understood, Chief.”

Stollar kept gagging and grunting as Ekkli hauled him over to the elevator, still grasping his neck firmly. As they entered the lift and began to head downstairs, Cale leaned forward in his chair and exhaled, rubbing his paws together.

“I’m dying. You can cut off whatever body part you want. I’m not telling you anything,” Cale said calmly.

“Oh, I know, I know,” Gobor said, getting off the desk and sighing gently. “I don’t expect you too. That li’l fucker of yours—he’ll break. Trust me.”

“So why am I still breathing?”

The canine chuckled and gestured towards Corrvin. The boar smashed his fist into Cale’s face, causing him to shout. Then he grabbed him by his vest and tossed him onto the floor near Gobor’s footpaws. Inhaling deeply, Cale got onto his knees before looking up at Gobor and his wicked grin. He spat near the canine’s footpaws before scoffing.

“Whatcha gonna do, _Chief_? Huh? All the pain I’ve been going through these past years will amount to nothing you plan on doing to me.”

“We’ll see,” Gobor said, as he started undoing his pants.

Cale remained on his knees as the pit bull slowly turned around and pulled his pants down, showing off his plump buttocks and tail. Eyebrow raised, Cale kept looking at the dog as he squatted and raised his tail. Before Cale could question what the dog was about to do, he passed gas in the lion’s face. A few seconds later, Gobor grunted and sighed as he started to defecate on the floor.

“The _fuck_ , Chief?!” Corrvin shouted, backing away and plugging his big nose.

Cale looked away and scrunched up his face, while Gobor let out a deep breath once he finished. He pulled his trousers back up before he turned around and folded his arms, looking down at Cale.

“Eat that,” he demanded.

“Um.” Cale looked at the noticeably copious amount of excrement in front of him. “Yeah. That don’t smell like chocolate.”

“I don’t give a fuck what it smells like. Eat it.”

“Hey, I’ll gladly give you—or that boar even—a rimjob. I’m fine with that. But I ain’t into that coprophagia bullshit. There are plenty of websites on the Internet—”

Cale grunted when Gobor punched him against the jaw and snarled. “You’re fuckin’ gonna eat my fuckin’ shit! Do you fuckin’ understand me?!”

The lion spat on the floor again. “Make me.”

Gobor grinned nastily. “Mkay.” As the dog stomped over to his desk, the boar standing behind Cale retched and started to cough a few times.

“Chief…I really gotta stand here and watch this?” he asked, sounding nauseated.

“I can make _you_ eat it if you want.”

Corrvin stopped protesting just as Gobor grabbed his radio and held it up to his mouth. “Rex?”

“Yeah, Boss?”

“How’s the game goin’?”

Rex grunted over the radio, and Cale could hear cheering and voices in the background. “It’s the second-to-last playoffs game! Stadium’s so packed I can damn near smell all the snacks everyone’s been eating!”

“Oh. Full house, eh?”

“It’s fuck—OW! SIT YOUR ASS DOWN—hold on…fuckers…”

As Rex paused for a moment, Gobor walked over to the monitor on his wall and turned it on. He gazed at the image emitting static all over the screen before he twisted a knob that changed the channel. Suddenly, Cale could see a live video feed of a basketball game, with the stadiums packed out with thousands of aliens and anthros alike, all watching as two teams—one wearing red and gold, the other silver and black—ran around on the court. Cale slowly began to piece everything together.

“Wait…wait, hold on,” Cale said, panting heavily.

“Yo, Rex! I got the feed up!” Gobor exclaimed.

“Oh good. You seein’ this?”

“Yup! Seein’ _lots_ of innocent people in them bleachers… _lots_ of ‘em.”

“Now, Boss, you said that, um…that ‘stuff’ the doctor made—it’s only gonna impact the bugs, right? It won’t harm me?”

“Nah, course not. You said them bleachers full, right?”

“Yeah.”

“And that stadium holds, what, ‘bout twenty thousand, twenty-five thousand fans? Not including the teams themselves and the employees?”

“Something like that.”

“Good! Stand by.”

Gobor dropped his radio on the desk before walking over and muting the monitor. Cale started hyperventilating and shaking.

“Wait—”

“That’s another thing about you ‘heroes,’ y’see. Don’t give a fuck ‘bout your own goddamn lives, but you got no problem getting hit by a bus if you saw a stroller in the middle of the street and had to save the baby in it.”

“Um…Chief? I thought you said we were gonna just bomb the bus—”

“I ain’t fuckin’ speakin’ to your ass, Corrvin! Now shut the fuck up!” Gobor shouted.

Exhaling, Gobor leaned against his desk as he grinned and pointed at his pile of slurry. “Food’s getting cold, kitty. Better eat it now ‘fore it tastes worse later.”

“…Are you fucking _kidding_ me. You…you’re really that fuckin’ _petty_ ,” Cale said in disbelief.

“Yup! You can either eat or you can watch twenty thousand civilians die!”

Cale slowly closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He looked back down at the mound in front of him and scowled. As he started to lean downwards, Corrvin retched again and rushed to the wastebasket, while Gobor started to giggle like a child.

__________________________________________

Stollar shouted when one of the officers whacked him across the face with her nightstick. Ekkli was standing near the door in the interrogation room, while the other officer wiped her forehead and exhaled.

“I’m not going to keep asking you,” the black and white Border collie softly stated. “Tell us what you know, or this continues.”

Stollar spat blood near the dog’s footpaws before chuckling. “It doesn’t matter…it’s far too late for you to do anything.”

The alien groaned and coughed when the Border collie smacked him in the ribcage with the nightstick, causing him to bend over and fall on the floor. Then the dog started beating Stollar mercilessly, repeatedly striking him in the back and against the ribs with the weapon, hoping the alien would talk. Stollar groaned as he shuffled his feet around on the floor, his hands still cuffed behind his back.

“How…how’s it feel bein’ a _bitch_? Hehe…I know the other cops tease you ‘bout that.”

“It’s Officer Samyer to you,” the Border collie snapped.

“‘This is Officer Bitch responding…heading to the crime scene!’ Oh wait, oh wait…how many of the dogs here are your sons?”

Samyer took out her pistol and pointed it at Stollar. Ekkli quickly rushed over to the dog and grabbed her paw. “Calm down, Samyer.”

“We’re not getting anywhere. Maybe this asshole will learn some manners when he has a bullet lodged in his leg!”

“Or maybe you’ll nick his femoral artery and he’ll bleed out and die. Is that what you want?”

Sighing, Samyer put her gun back into its holster before turning and looking at the lizard. “What do you propose we do then?”

As the two officers started talking amongst themselves, Stollar looked around the room for any kind of weapon. There were no pipes in the ceiling, nothing sharp or blunt on the floor, and the walls were completely bare. All he had was a metal table and the metal chair he was sitting on earlier. Taking a few breaths, he sized up both officers, guessing how tall they were and trying to figure out how much they weighed. Both of them looked around the same size in weight, but the monitor lizard was taller. He looked at the reptile’s abdomen before glancing at the corners of the table and chair.

“…some pliers,” said Ekkli.

“Pliers?”

“These alopids? They got a shitload of teeth. And they’re like sharks; they can grow ‘em back in a short amount of time.”

… _Shit_ , Stollar thought.

____________________________________________

Cale retched several times, shutting his eyes and forcing himself to try and ignore what he just did. Corrvin was spitting into the wastebasket and moaning as vomit dribbled from his bottom lip. Gobor was coughing and wheezing, having spent the last five minutes laughing nonstop. He wiped his eyes for a moment before he took several deep breaths and looked at Cale.

“Okay,” he said, rubbing his face. “Goddamn that was funny!”

Cale didn’t say anything. He just snorted before looking up at the dog. “There. …I did what you asked. Tell your dog to deactivate the bomb.”

Gobor exhaled as he reached over and ran a finger against the radio. He started to pick it up, only to set it into one of his pockets. Then he walked over to Cale and stood him up, looking down at the feline as he stood in front of him.

“I _could_ do that, yes…I haven’t laughed that hard in months.”

Warm paws found their way around Cale’s back. Even though Gobor hadn’t said a word about it, he already knew what the dog planned on doing to him next. Growling, Gobor pressed his body against Cale’s, licking his lips and breathing heavily against his face. Cale tried not to scowl as his foul dog breath filled his lungs, and didn’t bother fighting back when the pit bull started reaching forward and rubbing his exposed chest and belly.

“I wasn’t lying earlier, y’know…you are cute. Love seeing all you anthros who aren’t afraid of showing their gut and flaunting their ass about. Mm…so thick and chunky…”

Gobor slowly reached down into Cale’s pants, groping his penis and testicles. The lion knew he could easily punch the dog, push him away, go for his gun—he had all sorts of options. But he knew if he agitated Gobor, he wouldn’t hesitate to kill everyone in the basketball stadium. So he just remained still, turning away as Gobor felt around his testicles.

“You poor thing. Them balls feelin’ mighty heavy! When was the last time you came…hmm? When was the last time you fucked someone?”

“None of your goddamn business,” Cale snarled.

Gobor growled. “I told you before: I know you a fag, kitty. I can smell it on you.”

“So what if I am?”

“You’re a fag. I’m a fag. So what’s about to happen will be consensual!”

Cale grunted when Gobor suddenly grabbed him by the back of his neck and slowly pushed him over to his desk. The feline huffed when Gobor slammed his head down with one paw and used the other to gradually undo his pants.

“You know this isn’t consensual,” Cale snarled, his teeth grit.

“Course I do!” Gobor said, before he started undoing Cale’s pants. “Whether or not I _care_ is a different story.”

Taking a few deep breaths, Cale shut his eyes as he felt his pants falling to the floor. He grunted again when Gobor grabbed Cale’s buttocks and started groping him again.

“Damn…even thicker than I thought you were.”

“Call it off,” Cale growled. “I won’t fight you. Call off your boy. _Now_.”

“ _No_. I make the rules here, fuck-face, not you. If you _really_ don’t want this to happen, then say so! I’ll pull my pants right back up, I swear. Sure, few thousand people are gonna die, but why do you care? You don’t know ‘em. You don’t care about ‘em. You’re just doing this because your ‘conscience’ is telling you to. All you gotta do is say ‘no,’ Cale.”

Gobor licked his teeth as he started to lift Cale’s tail and stood directly near his tailhole.

“Surely your pride is more important.”

Cale didn’t say anything. He kept his paws planted firmly on the table and took a few more deep breaths, while Gobor leaned forward and whispered in his right ear.

“I’m gonna enjoy this,” he said, before slapping Cale’s right buttock. “And something tells me you’re gonna enjoy it too.”

____________________________________________

Stollar grunted as he slobbered and whimpered while Samyer kept his mouth pried open. Meanwhile, Ekkli held a pair of pliers and gripped one of Stollar’s many teeth with it. He pulled backwards as hard as he could, shortly before hearing a meaty squelch. Stollar exclaimed as his tooth was pulled out, and he promptly whimpered as blood dribbled from his mouth. Ekkli huffed and tossed the tooth onto the table, where five other teeth were.

“How many teeth do these alopids have?” Samyer asked.

“Some can get upwards of seventy or eighty. Think this guy has fifty maybe? Seems like he lost one already earlier,” Ekkli responded.

“Hmm. Good. That means we got forty-three more to go!”

Samyer was just about to snatch the pliers from Ekkli when her radio crackled. “Oi, Samyer. You there?”

The Border collie exhaled and picked up her radio, while Stollar continued to whine and let blood flow from his mouth.

“I copy. This important, Stosh?”

“Camera’s on the fritz again. Chief forget to pay the bill?”

“Funny. Go get Pollard to fix it.”

“Pollard isn’t answering.”

“So get Ashlyn to do it.

“She’s not answering.”

“Then get maintenance!”

“I tried. Can’t find anyone. Plus most of ‘em went home for the night.”

Samyer shut her eyes and let out a frustrated breath before responding. “Where are you?”

“Second floor security room. I’m checking CCTV footage now; something ain’t right.”

“All right, I’ll be right down.”

Samyer lowered her radio and exhaled, while Ekkli looked at her and asked, “Problem?”

“Couple officers aren’t responding and the cameras are goin’ haywire. Stay here; I’ll check it out.”

“Sure.”

Stollar kept breathing gently as he watched Samyer make her way towards the door and exited the interrogation room. Shortly after she left and locked the door, Stollar grunted as he jerked himself to the left, tipping over the chair and falling onto the floor again. Ekkli turned and looked at the alien, huffing.

“Don’t even. The door’s locked and you’re handcuffed,” Ekkli said, sounding disinterested.

As Ekkli reached down to stand up Stollar, he rolled over on the floor a bit before looking at the chair, the table, and where Ekkli was standing. Scowling, the monitor lizard walked over to Stollar and grunted as he stood him up.

“Now I’m warning you—”

The monitor lizard shouted when Stollar head-butted him in the chest. He staggered and moved backwards, and Stollar took the opportunity to charge into him, using his head as a battering ram. Ekkli fell backwards, tripping over the chair still on the floor. When he fell, his back banged against the corner of the table, and Stollar heard a subtle crack. Ekkli landed on the floor and gasped, his mouth left agape after feeling one of his ribs cracking. He swore and started to take out his gun, just as Stollar sprinted forward and kicked him in the face. Still on the floor, the lizard tried shooting Stollar, but the alien lifted his right foot high and stomped on Ekkli’s throat. The lizard’s eyes bulged outwards, and he coughed and hacked, his windpipe damaged. Stollar snarled as he stomped on his throat again, and the monitor lizard gagged, sounding like he was choking. His gun slowly fell from his hands, and Ekkli whimpered as he grabbed his throat and wheezed, wondering why he was struggling to breathe or speak. Stollar spat blood in the officer’s face before snorting.

“Fucker,” he murmured.

As Ekkli lied on the floor dying, Stollar walked backwards and crouched down, grunting and wincing as he groped around the lizard’s pockets as best as he could. He could feel a set of keys pressing against the reptile’s trousers, but couldn’t exactly slide his fingers into the pocket. Frustrated, Stollar stood back up and got into the center of the room. He slowly bent over before crouching and sliding his arms down. Afterwards, the alien grunted as he rolled backwards and kept his knees bent. Moving his legs slightly, he slid his right and left hand over each respective foot, grunting and swearing as he strained the muscles in his limbs. Eventually, the alien’s hands were in front of his body instead of behind his back. Stollar looked over at Ekkli and saw that he wasn’t moving, his pale eyes gazing up at the ceiling. He crawled over to the dead officer and sifted through his pockets again with little difficulty. After he found the keys, the alien unlocked his handcuffs and exhaled, rubbing his sore wrists and curling his fingers. Paranoid and exposed, Stollar sifted through the officer’s pockets and took his handgun as well, making sure that the safety was off. He stood up moments later, wincing and holding his chest, still feeling sore around his face and within his ribs.

“All right…okay. I got a handgun,” Stollar said, before huffing. “I got one handgun and I’m kinda beat up and there’s about fifty other officers in this building who are dying to shoot someone.”

Using the keys he stole, Stollar unlocked the interrogation room door before exhaling and grabbing the handle.

“Definitely about to die. Wonderful.”

He pushed down on the handle and opened the door.

_______________________________________________________

Cale groaned after Gobor finished. He still had his teeth grit and was struggling not to moan or let any tears run down his face. After the dog finished up, he pulled up his trousers before growling and rubbing the lion’s backside.

“There…you see? You enjoyed that! Hehehehe, you sure did whimper a lot when you came! Even heard you fuckin’ purr a few times. …You _missed_ that, didn’t you?”

Cale didn’t say anything. He just gradually lifted his head and his arms before he bent down and pulled his underwear and pants back up. Limping and grunting, Cale headed back to the chair in front of Gobor’s desk and sat down, huffing. He looked down at the cooling pool of ejaculate he released onto the floor and part of Gobor’s desk before looking back up at the dog.

“Fine…fine…I…I enjoyed that. All right? I haven’t—ow—haven’t come that hard in a while. I enjoyed…being _dominated_ by you. Okay? You fuckin’ satisfied now?” Cale asked, his voice rising.

“Yes,” Gobor said, walking over to the monitor and turning the volume back up. “Very much so! Corrvin, grab him.”

Cale was just about to rise from his chair when the boar wrapped his burly right arm around his throat. Gobor picked up his radio again and messaged Rex.

“Release it now,” he ordered.

Cale’s eyes widened.

“Errrr, boss? Don’t I need some—”

“Ma’fucka, release it now!” Gobor shouted.

“Okay, okay, shit!”

Cale looked at the screen and could see Rex looking down at his pants. He took a device from his pockets and removed some kind of detonator. Seconds later, he pushed down on a green button and shoveled it back into his pocket.

“NO!” Cale shouted.

Nothing happened for the first thirty seconds, but then Rex noticed that the air within the stadium was looking a bit foggy and greenish.

“Um…Boss?” Rex said.

Cale kept trying to fight the boar, but he knew it was already too late. “You said you were gonna call it off!”

Gobor flicked his eyes at Cale. “Hmm? Oh, that. I said if you didn’t want this to happen, then say so! Hehe, you didn’t say a word, so I assumed you didn’t care!”

“YOU SON OF A BITCH!”

“Yeeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaah, I know,” Gobor said, before chuckling.

Cale looked at the monitor again. The basketball game stopped. One of the players started coughing and wheezing, unable to run straight. Various anthros in the audience were getting up and heading for the exit, or towards the bathrooms. Some of them began to collapse, causing others to scream. It wasn’t long before incessant chattering turned into screaming and hollering, and dozens were trying to sprint for the exit. At least a third of the basketball players were on the floor retching and convulsing; one of them started vomiting up blood, while another player’s fur started to fall out.

“Um…Boss? I—ACK!”

Rex looked down at his furry arms and noticed red boils were forming. He started scratching at his fur, whimpering when he tore through the fur and flesh and started bleeding. Then the dog looked at his paws and could see patches of his paws and fur turning red.

“I can’t…I can’t breathe…”

“Eh. You’ll be fine,” Gobor said nonchalantly.

Rex retched and coughed up bloody phlegm and saliva onto the floor. He started wheezing and gasping, unable to breathe properly.

“Help…Boss…”

“See ya, Rex!”

“BOSS!”

Gobor shut off his radio, shortly before changing the monitor’s channel. Cale stopped struggling; he knew it was too late. The boar loosened his grip as well and snorted before looking up at the canine.

“Chief…some of our officers were at that game,” Corrvin murmured.

“Eh. They were off-duty. S’far as we know, they’re just one of many civilians who died in the attack!”

Cale closed his eyes for a moment and looked down at the floor. As he stared at the carpet, Gobor adjusted the channel a few more times before inputting a series of numbers and waiting. It wasn’t long before an image of an arctic fox standing inside of an office appeared on the monitor.

“What is it, Grizzer?” the fox asked.

“Good news baby! Turns out that pathogen Vogar made was a fuckin’ success! Just deployed it a minute ago—the results were quite messy!”

“Elaborate.”

“Set that shit off in a basketball game! I dunno what the fuck Vogar did, but that pathogen will kill _any_ organic creature that breathes it in, including us anthros!”

“Good.” The fox squinted a bit and leaned forward. “Is that lion Cale Tomlik, by any chance?”

“Indeed it is! I just want you to know that _I_ was the motherfucker—”

“Why is he not dead?”

Gobor stammered. “Complications, Baron. We ran into—”

“I don’t care. Kill him. _Right now_. Don’t contact me again until it’s done.”

“But—”

Baron hung up the call, and the screen changed to images of black and white static. Gobor snarled and punched a button on the monitor that shut the machine off.

“Ungrateful cunt,” Gobor grumbled, before wagging his tail and walking over to his chair. He sat down and looked at Cale’s disheartened face before chuckling.

“I really _should_ just kill you. But you are just…a rare breed, y’know? Real thick-ass cat, not a crier, not a whiner, _and_ you don’t even gotta be asked! I just gotta threaten to kill a baby and you’ll bend over for me! Fuckin’ fantastic. Hmph…whatcha think, Corrvin?”

“I think you should kill him,” he bluntly stated.

“Nobody fuckin’ asked you.” Gobor sighed. “So this what I’m gonna do! You’re gonna be my new pet! Understand? Don’t give a fuck ‘bout what you want. You serve _me_ and me alone. If I tell you to suck my cock, you get on your knees and you—”

“Poker,” Cale murmured.

Pausing, Gobor leaned forward and said, “What?”

Cale finally lifted his head and stared at Gobor. “Poker. You know what that is. Card game made by them humans.”

“What the fuck of it?”

Cale rolled his tongue around his mouth. “Well. See. Poker ain’t about the cards. It’s about _how_ you play the cards. I’m…I’m not lucky. I always get the bad hands everytime. And despite this, I never panic.”

“So your bitch-ass gets all twos and a seven and that’s just fuckin’ fine?”

“Absolutely. You can make a straight flush if you let the game pan out long enough.” Cale exhaled and shook his head. “People like you? Like Milz Dillvor? Like Dr. Vogar Oblingor? You all _start_ with jacks or queens, or even kings. But you don’t do anything, even though you could…and probably should.”

Gobor was about to say something when his radio crackled. “Hey, Chief! Got a problem down here! Some of the boys ain’t picking up!”

“See, me?” Cale resumed. “I just let the game play itself out. I wait and I keep waiting, and I keep looking at the other players, trying to see how I can turn the game around so that I win. But people like you? You don’t do anything, even though you got a winning deck in your paw. You always _think_ you’ve won, right from the start.”

Cale started to unsheathe his claws as he gripped the arms of his chair. “And then when you finally _do_ play your hand and slap all them kings down? I put down my cards…and what started as four twos and a seven, turned itself into a straight flush.”

Cale started to grin widely while Gobor began to scowl.

“Guess what cards I’m holdin’ now?”

The dog was just beginning to take out his handgun when Cale lifted his legs and kicked at the table with all his lower body strength. The desk was shoved backwards, banging against Gobor so hard that he fell backwards and almost hit one of the glass panes. Corrvin reacted immediately, taking out his handgun and firing a bullet. Cale dove forward and grabbed Gobor’s name plate, ducking so he could dodge the bullet. The boar fired two more times, but Cale rolled on the floor and tossed the plate against the swine’s face. It thumped just above his left eye, causing Corrvin to shout as he was temporarily blinded. Cale had just enough time to sprint over to Corrvin and slash him across the face, lacerating his right eye and arm with his claws. As the boar squealed, Gobor stood back up carrying his handgun. Acting quickly, Cale snatched the pistol from Corrvin before standing behind him and wrapping his right arm around his throat. While Corrvin gagged, Gobor walked out into the middle of his office, following the boar and lion as Cale dragged Corrvin towards the elevator.

“I got over seventy officers in this fuckin’ tower! Your fuckin’ dumbass still got nothin’ but twos!”

Cale grunted as he continued to move backwards towards the elevator, while Corrvin kept gagging and tried to break free.

“Chief…CHIEF! FUCKIN’ SHOOT HIM!”

“I’m tryin’! Move your goddamn head!”

Cale reached the elevator. He pushed one of the buttons on the panel and called an elevator car up to the floor. It emitted a faint ding only a few seconds later, and the doors rumbled as they slid open.

“SHOOT HIM!” Corrvin snarled.

“I can’t! Your fuckin’ head—fuck it,” Gobor said, frustrated.

Gobor shot Corrvin in the head, blowing brain fragments and a stream of blood against Cale’s face. The lion shouted and immediately stepped backwards into the elevator, dropping Corrvin’s body and firing blindly at Gobor. The dog shouted as he rolled on the floor to dodge the gunfire, trying to get a better aim at Cale. He fired off a few shots, but none of them hit the lion. Cale pressed a button for one of the lower floors and hid near the wall, panting and breathing heavily. Gobor just swore noisily before taking out his radio and messaging his officers.

“All units, the hostile has escaped! If you see that lion fucker, you shoot him on sight! Are we fuckin’ clear?!”

“Um, sir…we got a bigger problem,” one officer responded.

“What is it?!”

“Ekkli, sir. He’s dead. And I can’t find that alopid.”

“Are you fucking—ARGH! FUCK! Which fuckin’ floor you on?!”

“Fifth, Chief.”

“You fuckin’ stay there! I’m coming down now!”

Gobor stuffed his radio back into his pocket before huffing and pushing the call button on the elevator.

“Ma’fuckas can’t do anything fuckin’ right!”

The second the elevator doors opened up, Gobor stepped inside and pushed the button for the fifth floor. He started huffing and snarling to himself, ready for whatever ambush Cale or Stollar had planned for him.

He was so concerned about catching both of them that he forgot all about the Liberators’ impending attack.


	12. The Terrorist

It was just another late night. Just another boring shift at the guard station. The police officer leaned backwards in his chair and exhaled before looking towards his left and seeing a set of headlights approaching the garage. Rubbing his nose, the skinny English mastiff looked down at the CCTV system and grumbled. He nonchalantly deactivated the system, shutting off various cameras and removing the hard drive that was keeping track of all the footage. When he looked back up, he spotted two dark gray vans parked outside the garage in front of the boom barrier. The mastiff grumbled as he straightened out his badge and slid open the window of his small shack. The anthro sitting in the passenger seat of the first van lowered his window and stuck his head outside.

“Cameras?”

“Disabled,” the mastiff growled.

The brown-furred squirrel nodded and sniffled. “Alarms?”

“Disabled. Can’t prevent outside help. Other cops show up, you’re on your own.”

The squirrel blinked. “Open.”

After the squirrel stuck his head back into his van, the mastiff closed his shack’s window before he pushed a green button that raised the metal shutter doors concealing the tower’s garage. Moments later, the mastiff lifted the boom barrier, and both vans drove forward. The driver within both vans drove down an incline and found themselves in the tower’s lower parking garage, where the vans’ occupants spotted several parked police vehicles and three officers who were talking to each other and traveling to their police cruisers. Once they saw the mysterious vans entering the garage, they slowed down and observed the heavy vehicles.

“Hey, these the mechanics who gonna fix them wall monitors?” one officer asked.

A gray-furred wolf scratched her scalp and shook her head. “No. They’re not supposed to be here until next Tuesday.”

The wolf approached one of the vans once the engine shut off. She reached for her gun.

“All right, out of the vehicle! This is a restricted area! Anyone—FUCK!”

The back doors of the van the wolf was approaching burst open, revealing four anthros clad in body armor and gray camouflage trousers. Two of them were carrying submachine guns fitted with silencers. Just as the wolf raised her firearm and the other two officers tried to do the same, the assailants fired. The officers shouted as they fell to the floor and didn’t get back up. Afterwards, all of the assailants exited their vans and began to chatter amongst each other. The leader of the assailants, a chubby cheetah wearing a dark green vest and camouflage trousers, took out a handheld mobile device and looked at a set of schematics for the tower. He fidgeted with a few buttons on the device before uploading the schematics to a series of other devices.

“You all have your orders,” Rooker said deeply. “Rixx will be here soon.”

“Should we take prisoners, sir?” one assailant asked.

“Absolutely not.”

Everyone agreed. The assailants split up into two groups. One group traveled over to the service elevator, while the other walked over to the police cruisers and began to sabotage the engines.

_______________________________________

Stollar grunted as he walked down the hallway, rubbing his bruised jaw and rolling his tongue around his gums where several of his teeth used to be. He looked down the barren hallway that only had a few flyers posted on the walls before he looked up and spotted a camera hanging from the ceiling. Swearing, Stollar quickly hid in a storage closet on his right, opening up the door and using it as a barricade. He slowly peeked around the open door and looked up again. The light indicating the camera was recording wasn’t on. Confused, Stollar shut the door before he scratched his head and walked forward, reaching a path that allowed him to travel left or right. Taking a wild guess, Stollar took a left and walked down the tiled hallway. He soon found himself heading towards an open area filled with various desks and booths for desk jockeys and detectives to work at. One detective was still working, sweating and unbuttoning his stained dress shirt. Knowing his gun was far too loud, Stollar formed a fist with his left hand and pounded against the wall three times. He waited for the detective to come investigate the sound, at which point Stollar hid against the wall, only peeking around the corner to judge how tall the anthro was.

“That you, Samyer?”

By the time the detective approached the wall, Stollar wheeled around the corner and shouted as he punched the komodo dragon in his groin. The lizard yowled in pain as he dubbed over, and Stollar promptly smashed his handgun across his face, sending him to the floor. Before the detective could get back up, Stollar got on top of him and snapped his neck, exhaling once he stopped moving. Panting, the alien stole the officer’s radio before heading to his desk and examining his cabinets.

“Pike, you there?” someone called over the radio.

Stollar ignored it. He opened the cabinets and looked at various records before opening the komodo dragon’s desk drawer and exhaling.

“There we go,” he exhaled, acquiring a silencer and fitting it to his handgun.

“Pike, respond.”

Stollar still refused to answer. After twisting the suppressor to his gun, he wandered around the wide open area full of desks before he came across another corridor. Two officers were chatting together and walking down the hall with their backs turned. One eye shut, Stollar aimed for the officer on the left and steadier his hand. He squeezed the trigger.

The bullet hit the wall, puncturing the plaster in a diagonal angle above the wolf’s head.

“The fuck’s that?!” the white wolf shouted.

_Fuck!_ Stollar thought, before he immediately retreated.

“Hey…the hell? That’s a damn bullet hole!”

Both officers looked at each other in bewilderment before turning around. They immediately took their pistols out of their holsters and started to walk in the other direction. As one officer began to inspect the area, the white wolf raised his radio and started to speak.

“Hostile in the building on the seventeenth floor. Might be that cat Chief said escaped earlier. Requesting backup,” the wolf whispered.

Knowing he was in trouble, Stollar started running back towards the previous corridor he emerged from. He made it several steps before grunting and stopping, limping his way down the hall after feeling a sharp pain around his ribs. The alien groaned and took several deep breaths before moving his way near one of the stairwells. Upon shoving open one of the doors, Stollar gently closed it so it wouldn’t make any noise. Sweating and wincing, Stollar started to walk down the stairs, traveling around various floors as he tried to make his way towards the exit or one of the armories.

“All units, red alert. We got two hostiles in the building; at least one of them’s armed. Lock everything down now!” Stollar heard over the radio.

Sighing, the alien leaned against the dusty wall and took a moment to breathe. He surmised who the other “hostile” was immediately and began to smile. His only issue was figuring out where Cale would go, and whether or not he subdued or killed Gobor Grizzer during his escape. Taking a deep breath, Stollar kept going down the stairs and saw one of the doors creaking open. Two officers—one in uniform, one in a suit—walked out into the stairwell carrying handguns.

“You think it was tha—HEY! FREEZE!” the officer in uniform shouted.

Stollar erratically fired at the officers near the door. As he stepped back up the stairs, they returned fire. Gunshots rang in Stollar’s big ears and he ducked as he tried to kill both officers. The one in uniform yelped and fell to the floor, while the one in his suit retreated back into the room he came from and shut the door. Seeing no other option, Stollar went back up one floor and shoved open the nearest door he could find. He was on a floor that looked like it was being used for storing hard copies of files. Dozens of shelves were filled with boxes and folders, all full of reports and documents and photos from the precinct’s various cases. Stollar came across an aging pug sitting at his desk and pointed his gun at him. The canine yelped and held up his paws.

“Wait…w-wait, hold on. I just—I just maintain the records—”

Stollar shot him in the face. He hurried over to the officer’s desk and started searching its contents, trying to find anything of value. After collecting two magazines, he stood straight up and spotted a framed picture of the pug standing alongside what appeared to be his two children. Stollar shut his eyes and took a deep breath, his mind filling with various dark, ambiguous thoughts. Then he slammed the picture face down and grumbled to himself.

“Fuck it…fuck it,” he snarled. “Ridicule yourself later.”

As Stollar resumed jogging down the hall, he had to stop when a sharp pain suddenly crept up in his leg, forcing him to wince and limp his way through the field of shelves. He made sure that the room was clear before heading over to the elevator and pushing the call button. Stollar pointed his handgun at the elevator doors, breathing heavily and snorting, ready to fire. And then his eyes widened, and he immediately chose to take cover instead just to be safe. A faint ding was heard, and Stollar huffed as he peered inside the elevator. It was full of anthros. All of whom had automatic weapons.

“OH!”

__________________________________________

“SHIT!”

Cale dove to his left, grunting as he fell on the floor and crouched behind a metal desk. Automatic gunfire blared around the floor; Cale grunted as he listened to the bullets puncturing the walls, shattering glass, and embedding themselves into wooden chairs and tables. He slowly kept moving towards his left, panting and huffing as more bullets echoed throughout his ears.

“WE FOUND HIM! HE’S PINNED ON THE TWELFTH FLOOR!” shouted one officer.

As Cale made his way around the floor, he hid near a filing cabinet and released the magazine from his pistol. He blindly fired one bullet from his cover position before hearing the gun click multiple times.

“FUCK!” he exclaimed, before picking up his magazine.

“Hehe, dumbass is out already!”

Cale shook his head and sighed, surprised that this trick could easily fool trained police officers. When Cale saw two officers’ shadows in the corridor next to the filing cabinet, he immediately shoved the magazine back into his handgun, watched as both officers revealed themselves, and shot both of them multiple times in the chest. The officers he shot were wearing body armor and black long-sleeved shirts and pants. Realizing they were members of a tactical squadron, Cale quickly shot them both in the forehead to ensure they didn’t get back up. His gun truly empty, Cale tossed it aside before stealing one of the officers’ black submachine guns and a knife. Then he took one of their radios and exhaled once he started to speak into it.

“Target’s on the move,” Cale said, as he started to make his way towards the stairwell. “I repeat: the target got away. He’s heading towards the elevator shafts!”

“We have the same frequency, dumbass,” Gobor responded over the radio.

Cale stared at the radio and blinked. And then he slowly stuffed it into his pocket and started to jog for the stairwell.

“Everyone into the stairwell! Fucker ain’t dumb enough to take the lift; he’s gonna try to leave the building!”

_Damn it_ , Cale thought inwardly, as he kicked open the door leading to the stairwell. Listening for further comments from the radio, Cale remained in the stairwell and panted a few times, waiting to see if anyone would start running up or down the stairs. He made his way towards the door on the tenth floor and kicked it open before immediately hiding against the wall. Someone inside grunted and turned around, and Cale held the submachine gun he stole and waited. The police officer near the door squinted as he looked into the stairwell, seeing no one by the stairs. Not taking any chances, he cautiously hid near one of the pillars and waited for Cale to come inside. Cale pointed his submachine gun at the pillar and fired multiple times, hoping the bullets were strong enough to go through them. The officer shouted and emerged from his hiding spot, grunting and gripping his ribs. He had just enough time to point his handgun at Cale before he was shot twice in the face.

“Gunfire on the tenth floor. Possible hostile contact!”

_Shit_ , Cale thought. He broke out into a sprint, running across the carpeted floor and moving his way past the deceased officer. As he surveyed the floor, he saw multiple meeting rooms and what looked like the break room, given the microwave and various cabinets inside. One of the tables had been tipped over, and the lion knew right off the bat that highly-trained officers were inside. He aimed his gun at the table within the break room and fired multiple times, the bullets shattering various glass panes. Moments later, Cale listened to hellacious gunfire as bullets tore through the floor and the columns he was sprinting past. He threw himself into a small cubicle and panted heavily as more gunfire sounded in his ears. Huffing and feeling his chest tightening, Cale switched to his knife and waited patiently for one of the officers to show up. He peered around the corner of the cubicle and saw three officers all clad in body armor and wielding the same type of submachine gun he was carrying.

“You, elevator. You, stairwell. Fucker ain’t getting off this floor,” a lynx snarled.

Cale crouched down and stopped breathing for a moment. He kept watching as the lynx walked towards the cubicles, snorting and flaring his nostrils as he tried to find Cale. It didn’t take long for the feline to wander to the same hiding spot Cale was at. Cale was hoping that the lynx would stupidly head for the cubicle, but he was smart. He tossed a flashbang grenade, which Cale saw just a few feet away from him. He shut his eyes and covered his ears, but screamed nonetheless. Not even a second later, the lynx shot at the wall Cale was hiding behind, and the anthro collapsed to the floor with blood oozing from his mouth. Eyes narrowed, the lynx walked over to Cale’s corpse anyway and kicked it a few times. He studied his body before looking at the feline’s body. His eyes widened when he noticed that Cale had no bullet holes in him and that his right paw still clutched the knife. Swift as lightning, Cale opened his eyes, stabbed the lynx in the left footpaw, and then swung his knife upwards and sliced at the feline’s right paw. He howled and let go of his submachine gun, giving Cale enough time to stand up and hold the lynx hostage.

“Armory,” Cale snarled in the lynx’s ear.

“Fuck you.”

“I’m not…” Cale coughed a few times, feeling more saliva and copper-tasting fluids forming in his mouth. He kept his arm wrapped around the lynx’s throat, but he turned his head away as he coughed multiple times. He started to gag and wheeze, lowering his head a bit as he coughed up blood, the crimson-colored fluids dripping onto the floor. Taking a chance, the lynx jerked his elbow backwards, smashing Cale in the nose. He removed his handgun from his pocket and turned around, only to scream when Cale regained his composure long enough to shoot the lynx in the chest multiple times. The other two officers heard the gunfire and came sprinting over. Cale huffed several times as he shot at the officer running from the stairs first, kneecapping him before shooting him in the head. He rolled along the floor and dodged a stream of bullets before shooting the other officer in his knees too, watching as he fell to the floor. Instead of immediately killing him, he walked up to the iguana and huffed.

“Armory.”

“Fuck—”

Cale shot at the iguana’s left hand, blowing off two of his fingers. The officer shouted as he rolled onto his back and clutched his bleeding digits.

“Armory,” Cale repeated.

“You…you’re just gon’ kill me anyway!”

“Yes,” Cale bluntly stated. “Armory. State its location.”

“Fucker…it’s…it’s on the fifth floor! But you gotta—”

Cale shot him in his scalp. And didn’t realize until _after_ he killed him that he was probably about to tell him how to unlock said armory. The lion swore to himself, shortly before he leaned forward and broke out into another violent coughing fit. He placed his paws on his knees and released more blood from his mouth, this time enough to leave a tiny puddle on the floor. His bones suddenly felt very weak, as if his body was suffering from a lack of sufficient calcium. Leaning against the cubicle, Cale clutched his chest and shut his eyes, gritting his teeth and telling himself to relax. He took several deep breaths and slid down onto the floor, feeling like his heart was about to explode.

_Calm down…calm it down_ , he told himself. _Deal with it. S’a little pain. You deal with it…there you go. Get up_.

The lion wiped his mouth off and took a huge breath. He walked over to the iguana’s corpse and took two more magazines and some grenades before sprinting towards the elevator. And then he slowed down a bit upon hearing his thick gut churning and remembering what happened when he exerted himself too much chasing after Dillvor. When the lion reached the elevator, he pressed down on the button to call the lift over to his floor before waiting patiently for the doors to open. Pointing his gun inside, he heard a small ding, and exhaled when he noticed that it was empty. Upon entering the elevator, Cale pressed the button with the number “5” on it before he listened to the doors closing and blinked. He shifted around and pressed his back against the small metal wall where the elevator buttons were and took a deep breath. Once the elevator doors opened, Cale’s ears twitched once he heard several gunshots. He blinked and observed the bullet holes puncturing the metal walls in the back of the elevator, moments before someone on the floor reloaded. Cale released the pin from one of his grenades and chucked it into the room. Someone screamed before the explosive detonated, and Cale peeked out into the wide room and spotted two corpses.

Holding his submachine gun again, Cale sprinted forward and followed one of the signs leading to the armory. He ran down one of the corridors before taking a sharp left and arriving at the door leading to the weapons room. Cale observed the metal door in front of him and was about to kick it open when he noticed that the keypad beside it was busted, and the door itself was ajar. Lowering his leg, Cale raised an eyebrow before he nonchalantly pushed the door open and blinked.

“Huh,” was all Cale could say.

As he entered the armory, Cale noticed that several weapons had been lifted from the fortified room. There were areas in the room where large weapons crates were supposed to go, but some of them were missing. Various areas designated for magazines or standard pistols seemed to be gone, and when Cale pushed open a wire fence door leading into a cage-like area, the lion saw five other police officers’ bodies on the floor near various shelves. Cale set his submachine gun aside before he spotted one of the newer models that was bright silver and equipped with armor-piercing rounds. He switched weapons and took the silver gun instead, shortly before grabbing three magazines containing the armor-piercing bullets. As he started to gather a few flashbangs and grenades, Cale’s radio finally came to life.

“CHIEF! CHIEF! WE GOT CONTACT ON THE SIXTH—”

The line abruptly died, prompting Cale to raise his radio and listen.

“What the fuck’s goin’ on down there?! Why are all the cameras down?! There’s only two fuckin’ hostiles! What the fuck are you incompetent fucks doing?!”

“Seems like you got a third party, _Chief_ ,” Cale said into the radio.

“Bullshit! I know ‘bout all your training; I know you’re responsible for all this shit!”

Cale chuckled as he walked out the armory. “‘Fraid not. Seems like you’re excelling in pissing off the wrong people. …Oh. This is a nice gun, by the way. Didn’t even know these UMPs carry armor-piercing bullets.”

“You went through the fuckin’ armory?!”

“Hey, don’t get pissy with me. Someone beat me to the punch. I just took what was left over.”

“FUCK!”

Cale smirked as he entered the stairwell and started to move down the stairs, encountering another dead police officer. “Save yourself the trouble. Tell me what floor you’re on and we’ll settle this properly. Or you can send me more police officers to kill. Don’t care either way.”

_______________________________________

“FUCKING SHIT FUCKS!”

Gobor bellowed as he tossed his radio against the wall so hard it shattered into seven giant pieces. After staring at the shattered radio, Gobor turned towards the four officers clad in heavy body armor and started barking orders at them.

“Darnell, go find that fuckin’ alopid! Skoover, head down to the armory and find out what the fuck’s going on! Ysorra, figure out where the fuck my backup is! All the cops in this city and no one’s—”

“Signal’s getting blocked,” Ysorra responded.

“By what?!”

The dog shrugged before saying, “Dunno. I’m starting to think this is an inside job, Chief. All this shit kicked off at _precisely_ the perfect moment. That can’t be a coincidence.”

The blue-nosed pit bull narrowed his eyes and looked at the four officers around him. “Hmph. Funny that _you_ suggest that. You trying—”

“Um…Chief?”

“Shut up, Skoover!”

Something flashed by the windows on the floor. Skoover looked at the panes again and moved a bit closer to the windows.

“…was bound to happen, Chief. Some of the officers here have voiced their complaints with you. You know _some_ of the people in your staff are apprehensive with how you run things.”

Gobor scoffed. “Fuck ‘em. Whoever betrayed me’s getting their balls crammed in a meat grinder. S’that simple!”

Something flashed by the windows again. “Chief?!”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP, SKOOVER!”

Before Skoover or anyone else could say anything, one of the hoverbikes suddenly zoomed across the skies and abruptly hovered in the air just outside of the panes. Skoover’s eyes widened when he noticed that the hoverbike was large and carried two passengers. Worst of all, one of them seemed to have some kind of machine gun mounted on the bike.

“CHIEF!”

Gobor looked outside just as the gunner started to fire.

“GET DOWN!”

Gobor dove forward and covered his head, while Skoover hollered as the bullets started tearing through his body. Ysorra grabbed Darnell and shoved him down to the floor, while he grunted when one of the bullets grazed him. The other police officer tried to fire at the hoverbike while he sprinted to his left, but the bullets caught up to him, and his body spun around as he collapsed to the floor. Gobor panted as he dragged his body against the floor towards Skoover’s body, snatching his submachine gun from him before sitting down near one of the desk. Just as the gunfire ceased, everyone heard two more engines whirring, followed by more glass panes crashing. Gobor looked to his right and was shocked when he saw two more hoverbikes soaring straight into the tower, knocking over several desks before crashing into the walls. As Gobor examined the riders, he noticed that all of them were holding submachine guns as well and had a red patch on their clothing with the initials “LB” on them. Gobor knew right off the bat who they were, and was frustrated that it took him this long to figure it out.

Gobor stood up and started firing at the hoverbike outside. He hit the gunner several times, and the driver immediately activated the engine and relocated. The four Liberators inside the tower calmly stomped towards Gobor and shot at him. Knowing he was outnumbered, Gobor started to retreat. He ran over towards one of the empty offices and stepped inside, waiting for the enemy to get closer. Ysorra and Darnell remained outside, firing at the Liberators and taking out one of them.

“CHIEF! BACKUP!” Ysorra shouted.

Gobor scoffed and kept waiting, listening to see when the gunfire would end. He heard someone grunting and collapsing to the floor, but the shooting was still ringing in his ears.

“CHIEF!”

Gobor looked outside the office he was hiding in and noticed Ysorra was near the open door. He reached forward and stood behind Ysorra, holding her hostage as he wrapped his burly arm around her throat. Surveying his surroundings, Gobor could see that Darnell was dead, but another Liberator had also fallen. The two anthros were so adamant about taking Gobor that they charged forward and began to shoot. Gobor held his submachine gun with his right paw as he dragged Ysorra backwards, shooting off a volley of bullets. He could feel Ysorra’s body thrashing around as the assailants shot at her; thankfully the body armor slowed down the bullets enough so Gobor didn’t have to worry about getting hit. After one of the Liberators fell, the final one rolled to his left before switching to a shotgun. Gobor dropped his empty submachine gun and kept hauling Ysorra’s corpse around as he switched to his handgun. Suddenly, the Liberator rolled out of cover and fired at Gobor with his shotgun. Gobor shouted and dropped Ysorra, feeling at least one of the pellets penetrating his sides. As Gobor groaned and collapsed to the floor, he frantically fired at the Liberator before he could shoot back, dropping him.

“FUCK!” Gobor shouted, before rolling over on the floor and standing up.

Huffing, the pit bull started jogging towards the elevator, but suddenly shouted again and grasped his right side. He limped his way to the lift and pushed the button on the nearby keypad, waiting impatiently for his ride to show up. Once it did, Gobor got inside the elevator and hit the button leading down to the parking garage. As the elevator descended, Gobor took off his vest and used it to apply pressure to his wound. He inhaled sharply and shut his eyes, feeling the stinging sensation around his ribs as he felt some of the blood oozing out. Gobor took his vest away and looked at the gunshot wound, shortly before looking at his red vest and noticing the blood stains on it. He promptly rolled his eyes.

“Of course,” he grumbled.

__________________________________________

Cale huffed as he waited in the stairwell, hearing chatter from the door next to him. He stood for a brief moment and tried to hear the footsteps from inside as he wiped some sweat from his face and let out a long breath. When he noticed that someone was beginning to open the door, Cale snarled as he bashed it forward, slamming it against another anthro’s face and knocking him backwards. Afterwards, the lion pointed his submachine gun at the anthros inside before pausing. He found himself looking at half a dozen beasts clad in camouflage pants and dark green hooded sweatshirts, some of which had an emblem reading “LB” on them.

“…Liberators?” Cale asked.

The Liberators pointed their guns at Cale and were about to open fire until Stollar stepped out in front of them and held up his hands.

“Hey, hey, hold your fire!” he shouted.

One of the Liberators, a chameleon with yellow scales, looked down at Stollar and sniffed. “You know this guy?”

“Yeah, he’s my partner! He got captured by Gobor and his cops just like I did!”

As Stollar turned around and looked at the lion, he chuckled and folded his arms. “Suppose I shouldn’t be surprised you got free.”

Blinking, Cale relaxed his shoulders before saying, “Surprised you ran into the Liberators ‘fore I did.” Cale shifted his vision and looked up at the rebels. “What’s the situation?”

“My squad took out a dozen cops. Not sure how many this guy killed. Some of the officers are with us. Cameras are down, building’s locked up, and the forces are dwindling; Gobor ain’t getting outta here unless it’s in a body bag.”

“Negative. We need Grizzer alive.”

“Yeah. Got a big payday ahead of us if we bag him. ‘Sides, it’s far more fitting if he goes back to the same prison he broke out of,” Stollar added.

“No can do,” the chameleon replied. “Asshole has to die. I’m sure you’ve heard about all the abhorrent things he’s done lately.”

“I’m aware,” Cale answered. “We’re still taking him in alive.”

“No, you’re not.”

Snorting, Cale walked past Stollar and stood up next to the chameleon, growling. “I am taking Gobor Grizzer into custody. Alive. Do you understand?”

The chameleon recoiled and waved a hand in front of his face after smelling Cale’s noxious breath. He grimaced as he looked at the lion’s wide, burly frame and his muscles protruding around his fur. He was only a few inches taller than the chameleon, but the reptile felt like the lion was powerful enough to break his spine. When he spotted the tattoo on his left shoulder, along with the weapons he was already carrying, he submitted.

“Fine. But we’re killing all of his cronies. Unless you got a problem with that too?”

“None whatsoever.”

“Good. One of the officers who defected said he’s heading for the parking garage. Gate’s locked, and we disabled the vehicles; he ain’t going anywhere.”

“Then let’s cut the chatter and move.”

“Agreed.”

Cale stepped out of the Liberators’ way and backed into the stairwell beside Stollar. As the rebels began to walk downstairs, Cale stayed behind and looked down at his partner.

“Not gonna give me a kiss?”

“Not when your breath smells like someone pried open a manhole cover.”

Cale grumbled and scratched his nape sheepishly. “There’s a reason for that…”

Stollar chuckled. “What, did Gobor force you to lick his dirty tailhole?”

Cale kept glaring at Stollar until he started frowning. “Oh god, did he _actually_ do that?”

“I’m not gonna get into it.”

“You know what, that’s prolly best.”

Cale leaned forward and looked at Stollar’s mouth. “You’re missing some teeth.”

“Heh, yeah, there’s a reason for _that_ too.”

“Mm. So what’d they do to you?”

Stollar shrugged. “Nothing I can’t recover from. What did Gobor do to you?”

Cale paused for a moment, still remembering the sore feeling just below the base of his tail. “Nothing I can’t recover from.”

“You sure? I mean, given his ‘history’ and all that—”

“I’ll be fine, Stollar…and I’ll sure as shit feel much better when we finally catch this asshole.”

“Ditto.”

Cale and Stollar started to jog back downstairs, regrouping with all of the rebels as they headed for the garage. Squinting, Cale looked at the back pocket of one of the rebels and saw that one of them had his plasma pistol lazily shoved in the back of his trousers. The lion grunted as he leaned forward and snatched it out, causing the bear to stammer and turn around.

“Hey, that’s mine!” the bear shouted, sounding like a toddler.

Cale twirled the gun in his left paw twice before blinking. “It’s _mine_ , actually.”

“I stole that shit fair and square!”

“And I stole it back. While it was still in _your_ possession.”

One of the rebels heard the argument going on and nudged the grizzly bear. “He’s got ya there, Forkkorz.”

“Shut up.”

Cale sniffed as he put the gun in his trousers and folded his arms. “You’re welcome to try and steal it back.”

The grizzle bear was tempted to do just that, but then Stollar smirked and whispered, “He said ‘try.’” After hearing the alopid’s comment and looking at Cale’s girth, the ursine turned and resumed walking downstairs.

______________________________________________

Gobor huffed as he jogged through the parking garage, grasping his side and looking at the small patch one of his officers put on him to stop the bleeding. Three officers sprinted forward towards the garage’s exit, while Gobor and Samyer stayed behind to catch their breath.

“You good, Chief?” the Border collie asked.

“My tower’s been overrun by those fuckin’ Liberators, and well over half my officers have perished. Fuck you think?”

Samyer nodded. “So yes. Good.”

“Shut your fuckin’ mouth and get the car started!”

The Border collie rolled her eyes before she jogged over to her police cruiser and opened the door. At the same time, the three police officers near the steel roller door began to jog back towards the parked cars and SUVs, panting and looking frustrated.

“What the hell you doing? We can’t drive outta here unless you open the fuckin’ gate!” Gobor said.

One of the officers shook her head. “We can’t open it.”

“It’s a door. You open it, you close it. So go over there and open it,” Gobor snarled, sounding like he was talking to an infant.

Before one of the three officers could say a word, Samyer gritted her teeth and snarled as the car’s engine rumbled, but failed to start. She got out of the vehicle, frustrated, and slammed the door.

“Someone sabotaged the engines!”

“Well, check the other ones! Maybe—”

“Chief, they’re not gonna damage my engine and not touch the other vehicles. We’re stuck here.”

“So then fix one of the cars and let’s get outta here!”

One of the other officers chimed in again. “I just told you, Chief. That door ain’t opening. Someone locked us in. We can’t leave even if we wanted to.”

Gobor slammed his heavy fist on the hood of Samyer’s police cruiser before he started pacing left and right. “Lobby…fuck it. They prolly got a trap set for us, but fuck it! We head to the lobby, fight through whatever fuckers they got—”

The door from the stairwell swung open. Cale, Stollar, and the six rebels all stormed inside and started shooting. Samyer’s skull exploded as she was hit with a charged shot from Cale’s pistol. Various bone and brain fragments splattered all over Gobor’s body, causing the dog to stammer. He quickly took out his weapon and began to fire alongside the three officers clad in heavy body armor. Gobor had enough time to get off six shots before he threw himself over the hood of one of the cruisers and hid near one of the tires. As Cale, Stollar, and the rebels advanced into the garage, one of the rebels shouted and fell after getting hit in the chest multiple times. The three officers in body armor quickly relocated, moving backwards towards one of the parked SUVs and taking cover near the tires. Various tires popped and began to hiss, while windows shattered and glass was scattered across the floor. The chameleon spotted where Gobor was hiding and precisely aimed with his assault rifle, targeting his forehead. Gobor noticed what he was trying to do and immediately scurried backwards, hiding near the car’s trunk.

“PUSH ‘EM BACK! PUSH BACK!” Gobor screamed.

Two of the officers provided cover fire for Gobor as he sprinted towards another one of the fortified vehicles. At the same time, he fired to his left at the wave of rebels, hitting one of them in the face without actually killing them. Just as the rebel’s body fell to the floor, the officers providing cover fire shot him to pieces. Cale hid behind one of the concrete pillars and started to sneak his way from vehicle to vehicle, carrying the UMP and breathing gently. No one in the garage noticed that Cale was flanking the officers, up until Cale found a perfect spot to ambush them. Down on one knee, Cale aimed at Gobor and his officers and fired multiple times. The bullets went right through the body armor, dropping one of the officers and wounding another. The third one screamed and aimed for Cale, firing at his weapon. Cale yelped as one of the bullets smashed into the UMP, breaking the gun. He quickly dropped it to the floor before taking cover and removing his plasma pistol. As Cale started to change position, Gobor reached over and snatched the assault rifle from one of the fallen officers.

The rebels were still firing at them and advancing, splitting themselves apart so they wouldn’t be such obvious targets. After pulling a pin on a flashbang grenade, Gobor tossed it across the garage and heard someone swear. Two rebels screamed, and Gobor stood up and saw both of them wobbling and covering their eyes, trying to regain their composure. The canine shot both of them in the head before running across the garage and spotting the chameleon hiding behind a truck. The reptile was just starting to emerge from his hiding spot when Gobor smacked his assault rifle against the reptile’s face and punched him to the floor. Meanwhile, Stollar moved his way through the garage, looking underneath the vehicles to try and find the last officer’s footpaws. He saw canid footpaws a few yards across the garage and fired at them, grimacing when he failed to hit his target. When he finally did, the dog howled and stumbled, while Stollar heard the gun click and swore. Cale saw the officer fall too and jogged towards him alongside Stollar, while the final rebel sprinted over to go help the other Liberator. Forkkorz arrived just in time to see Gobor bashing the chameleon’s skull in.

He fired at Gobor, but the canine quickly threw himself inside one of the police cars after opening up the back door. Forkkorz approached the bleeding chameleon and crouched down to inspect his partner.

“Jojen, get up! We’re almost—”

The grizzly bear shouted when Gobor opened the other side door so fast that it smashed into his face and knocked him down. Gobor panted as he threw himself out the car and left the door open. He stepped over to Forkkorz and stomped on his chest, cracking a few ribs. The bear shouted and coughed, his fingers losing their grip on his weapon. Then Gobor reached down, picked up the bear, and dragged his head towards the open car door. He set his head down in-between the car seat and the open door, then shouted as he kicked the door closed. It slammed right on the bear’s head, damaging his skull and brain so badly that he didn’t get back up. Huffing, the pit bull made his way back to Jojen and saw the mutilated chameleon struggling to get his weapon. Gobor easily kicked the weapon from the chameleon’s hands before he got on his knees and planted his thumbs into the reptile’s eye sockets. Gobor snarled as Jojen screamed weakly and thrashed his legs around, but eventually he stopped moving. Standing up, Gobor spat on Jojen’s body before turning around and limping out into the open as he picked up an assault rifle.

“I’m right here, dibshits! C’mon…c’mon, let’s fuckin’ finish this!” Gobor chuckled. “I know you want my cock again, Cale! Maybe I’ll put it in your mouth this time—”

The dog shrieked when his rifle combusted in his paws. As Gobor dropped the broken weapon to the floor, he looked up and saw Cale holding his plasma pistol and knife. He fired a few times, but Gobor quickly rolled out the way before he picked up an empty gun and tossed it at the lion. Cale ducked, but just as he stood up, Gobor charged into him and tackled him down to the floor. His plasma gun and knife slid beneath a van, while Gobor remained on top of Cale and started punching him in the face. The lion snarled as he dragged his claws against Gobor’s left arm, tearing right through the flesh. As Gobor yelped and jerked his arm upwards, Stollar jumped on Gobor’s back and bit down on his left ear. Gobor whined noisily, as if someone just broke his leg, and stood up. He reached backwards and pried Stollar from his body before flipping him over and slamming his back on the windshield of a car. The glass cracked, while Gobor reached up and realized that part of his left ear was missing.

Cale punched Gobor in the back of the neck before Gobor could react and slashed at his body again, cutting at his chest. Gobor huffed as he blocked a few punches from Cale and backed up towards one of the vans. He suddenly heard a deep crunch, and yowled after stepping in broken glass. Cale took the opportunity to punch Gobor in the throat and ribcage, causing the dog to stagger as he leaned against a police cruiser. Snarling and snorting, Cale stomped to the dog, ready to throw a punch. Gobor dodged it and grabbed Cale’s mane, causing him to exclaim. Then he punched Cale in his plump belly and groin, bringing him down to his knees. Before Cale could stand back up, Gobor held the lion’s head and smashed his face into the vehicle’s door, before standing behind him and kicking him in the back of the head. His face smashed into the door so hard it made a metallic _thunk_ noise and left a dent. Cale collapsed to the floor, groaning as he lied still and felt blood coming from his nose and mouth. Gobor was about to finish the lion off when Stollar came behind him and slashed at him with a piece of glass.

The pit bull turned around and saw the alien standing behind him in a defensive stance and holding a shard of glass. Smirking, Gobor walked over to the alien and swiped the glass from his hand. Stollar yelped as he backed away and looked at the bulky dog, examining his wounds and his body structure. He was limping a bit, and his wound around his abdomen had reopened. Snarling, Gobor rushed for the alien and attacked him, throwing all of his weight at him. Stollar panted as he ducked and dodged each blow, not attacking him just yet. When Gobor tried to kick the alopid, Stollar moved backwards and staggered, feeling the pain in his ribs and back creeping up again. He huffed as he stood near one of the police cars, pretending that he was too weak to move. Gobor cracked his knuckles before throwing his weight at Stollar again. Stollar sidled out the dog’s way, allowing him to inadvertently punch one of the windows. It shattered, sending shards of glass down that sliced Gobor’s paw. The dog howled in pain before Stollar snuck behind him and kicked him in the back of his right knee, sending him down.

Stollar grabbed the back of Gobor’s head and smashed it into the door, while Cale groaned again and wearily got back to his footpaws, staggering. Gobor grunted as he turned around and rushed for Stollar again, primarily using his left paw to punch. Once again, Stollar didn’t attack, and merely dodged or rolled around on the floor. He led Gobor over to another pile of broken glass and hopped over it, while Gobor absent-mindedly stepped right in it. He howled again after feeling the shards puncture his footpaw, wincing and hopping on one footpaw. Stollar took the time to rush over and shove his body into the dog. Unbalanced, Gobor tipped over and slammed his head onto a police cruiser’s bumper. Not taking any further chances, Stollar picked up an assault rifle and fired at Gobor’s leg. Or rather, he would have if the gun wasn’t empty. Swearing, Stollar ran over to Gobor and used the rifle like a baseball bat, smacking it against Gobor’s head multiple times before hitting him in the chest. Gobor groaned and began to cough up blood when he looked at the alien’s left foot. He raised his right paw with the glass shards stuck in it, formed a fist, and slammed it down against Stollar’s toes.

Stollar shrieked as he dropped the rifle; he would’ve been better off getting struck with a hammer, and wondered if any of his toes just broke. As Stollar fell down and began to moan, Gobor grabbed the rifle and gave Stollar the same treatment. He struck him in the abdomen and chest four times before smacking him across the mouth with the butt of the rifle, causing another tooth to fly out his mouth. Before he attacked Stollar’s skull, Cale bellowed as he grabbed Gobor from behind, using his brute strength to flip the dog backwards and slam him on the floor. As the burly canine and feline wearily fought each other, Stollar whimpered when he looked underneath the van beside him and saw Cale’s plasma pistol. He rolled onto his stomach and crawled forward, reaching forward and grasping the weapon. Meanwhile, Cale was lying next to an armored van as Gobor kicked him in the face multiple times.

“You…you assaulted the Chief of Police,” Gobor wheezed, before coughing up blood. “And…and you…you murdered several police officers…”

Cale was about to say something when Gobor punched the lion in his left eye. The feline yowled and heard something crack, and he hoped that fragments of his artificial eye didn’t break off inside the socket.

“You…you’re sentenced to death! Now…” Gobor huffed as he looked around for some kind of weapon. “Now where the fuck…”

Knowing Cale was too wounded to fight back, Gobor turned his back to him and walked over towards one of the police cruisers. Cale grunted as he looked to his right and saw Stollar glaring at him. Both of them flicked their eyes at Gobor. He still had his back turned to him. Gobor chuckled when he looked down near the car and found a chunk of cement that had been shot off during the firefight. He picked it up and limped back over to Cale, who was still sitting near the van’s tire and coughing up blood.

“Don’t worry…I’ll…I’ll make sure…to keep your partner over there alive. Gonna need some ‘company’ once you’re gone.”

Gobor lifted the chunk of cement as he stood in front of Cale. He was just about to bring it down against the lion’s head when Cale lifted his plasma pistol and pointed it at Gobor’s crotch. The dog had his back turned for so long that he failed to notice when Stollar slid Cale’s pistol over towards him. The dog’s eyes widened. Cale smirked widely. He fired. The next several seconds, all Cale and Stollar could hear was Gobor shrieking and crying hysterically as he fell to the floor grasping his groin. Cale lowered his plasma pistol and kept smirking as he looked between the canine’s legs, noticing that part of his testicles or penis had been blown off, and he was bleeding around his thighs. There was nothing Gobor could do but writhe around in agony as tears streamed down his face. At some point, the burly pit bull whimpered pitifully as he lifted his paws and looked at his groin. He didn’t even want to try and figure out what part of his copulatory organs _weren’t_ mutilated by the blast.

“You muthafucka…” Gobor whined, as Cale began to stand up. “You…you’ll fuckin’ pay…you committed a crime—”

Gobor suddenly went silent when Cale limped over to the dog and stomped on his face, shutting him up. He staggered and spat blood from his mouth as he went to go check on Stollar, who was struggling to stand up. After helping the alopid up, Stollar wrapped his arms around his chest and winced.

“You good?”

Stollar shook his head. “I think…think he broke some of my ribs.”

Cale nodded. “You’ll be fine.”

“What about Gobor? He’s…he don’t look fine.”

“Don’t give a damn. We can finally take him now.”

“How? We gotta take him to a hospital—ow—and we gotta get patched up too.”

Cale wiped some blood from his nose before looking down at some of the cuts and bruises on his body. He turned and looked at the bodies of the fallen Liberators before looking down at Stollar, who’s much more fragile body looked far worse than his own.

“I’m tempted to leave his ass at this point.”

Stollar shook his head. “N-no…he’s gotta suffer, Cale. He’s going back to prison…one way or the other.”

Sighing, Cale shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his muzzle. “Shit. Okay, um…well, we’re outta options now. I know who to contact.”

“Who?”

“The Intergalactic Police Association.”

“Was hoping you _wouldn’t_ say that.”

___________________________________________________

It was the moaning that woke him up, of all things. Gobor Grizzer murmured and grunted as he opened his weary eyes and let his vision come into focus. There were multiple bright fluorescent lights on, the air smelled of musk and chemicals, and the walls, ceiling, and floor were completely white. The pit bull grunted as he looked down his right and saw that his right paw was cuffed to a hospital bed. Bewildered, Gobor moved his paw a few times and heard the handcuff rattling. He was about to sit up when he felt a sudden wave of pain flare up around his crotch. Breathing gently, Gobor turned to his left and saw Cale sitting in a chair, with his arms folded and his face and chest covered in a few bandages or stitches.

“Oh damn, you just missed it,” he said softly. “Last one was a foursome. Got _real_ nasty towards the end.”

Gobor grunted and wheezed as he listened to the heart rate monitor beeping. “W-what…whuh…fuck you doin’ here…where am I?”

Cale ignored him. He picked up a remote controller and pointed it at the monitor on the wall. He switched over to another program and played it before setting the remote down. In a matter of seconds, a movie began to play depicting two heavyset dogs who were exercising in the gym. However, both of them were sweaty and shirtless, and one of them wouldn’t stop looking at the other one’s crotch.

“Figured you’d like this one. _Gym Bones III: Excessive Erections_. More of a feline person myself, but damn…that bull terrier looks thick.”

Gobor blinked as he looked at the monitor again. The bull terrier and Rottweiler were drinking water together and sighing. The camera suddenly panned down and fixated on a dog’s corpulent gut before shifting over to the other dog’s crotch. When Gobor turned and looked at Cale, he noticed the lion’s left paw was down in his pants and he was growling as he vigorously rubbed himself.

“ _Mmf_ …there we go…got a _good_ shot of that ass,” Cale said lecherously.

“…You fuckin’ serious?”

Cale looked at Gobor and chuckled. He took his paw out of his pants and stood up, stepping beside Gobor’s bed.

“Never really got into masturbation. Wasn’t really all that fun; much more entertaining to do it with others. But, uh, given your ‘predicament,’ I think I’m gonna cherish my cock for as long as I can.”

“…I’m a cop,” Gobor wheezed. “My boys—”

“Can’t help you, unfortunately. We’re not in Knochen City. In fact, we’re not even on Drorix. We’re on a prison transport. We stopped at a refueling station and I figured I should check up on you, make sure you were doing okay.”

Gobor didn’t say anything. He just kept breathing gruffly as Cale stared at him.

“I’ll make this simple: you’re going back to prison. Indefinitely. I’ve talked to some of the IGPA agents, and they’ve assured me they’re gonna push for a _maximum_ prison sentence.”

Now Gobor started to grin. “Fuck…fucked up. We ain’t on Drorix…like you said. Different jurisdiction. Can’t prove shit.”

Cale nodded as he walked over to the table and started to look through documents in a folder. “Mm, yes, true. You can’t be convicted of anything you did on Drorix—even though you damn well should.” The lion sighed. “No matter. We’ll be taking you back to Tero.”

Gobor blinked. “Whuh?”

“You’re heading back to Tero. The Tero Police Organization and the Drorix Police Organization? They don’t want shit to do with each other thanks to all these confounded laws and regulations they got in place. Can’t fuckin’ stand planetary jurisdictions. But the IGPA?” Cale sucked on his teeth. “They don’t care about that. This whole galaxy is their jurisdiction. And according to this file, you were serving a prison sentence of…hmm. Oh my. Forty years for multiple counts of sexual assault, along with blackmail and indirectly causing a suicide.”

Cale flipped two papers and chuckled. “And according to _this_ file? You only served five before breaking out. So that leaves you with thirty-five years to go. Aaaaaaaaaannnnnnd according to this file? When you broke out, you murdered four prison guards.”

Cale closed the folder and tossed it back onto the table. “So let’s see: thirty-five years for the rapes. Add on another…we’ll say ten for breaking out of prison. And then you got murder charges for those guards you killed, so that makes…”

Cale lifted his fingers one by one and murmured to himself as he counted. And then he shrugged and set his arms down.

“Well, damn. I don’t got enough fingers to count that high.”

Gobor inhaled sharply, his eyes watering. “You fucking… _fuck_. You can’t…you can’t do this shit. You can’t do this shit!”

Cale walked over to Gobor and leaned down close to his bed. “You have one of two options. Either you go to prison for the rest of your life, and you die some crusty old fart who got shivved by some asshole half your age, or you get released for good behavior, and you die alone in your bed gurgling on your own vomit. Regardless of which option you pick, I can take comfort in knowing that you will never rape another person for the rest of your life.”

There was nothing Gobor could say. His voice was still hoarse, and the heart rate monitor started to beep faster as the dog tried to break free from his handcuff. But the handcuff wouldn’t budge, and even if it did, there were IGPA officers outside the room to stop him from escaping. Cale backed away from the bed as he looked up at the wall monitor and noticed the dogs were both naked and moaning as they groped each other.

“Ooh, it’s getting to the good part! You don’t mind anilingus, right? One of the dogs gets all up in that ass. Anyway, suppose I’d better go now and leave you to ‘pleasure’ yourself. Hope you don’t bust a nut!”

Before Cale exited the room, he gave Gobor a massive shit-eating grin that spread across his face and showed off all his teeth, and a few gaps from where the missing ones were. Gobor just whimpered as a tear ran down his face, while Cale turned and exited the room. Once the lion was outside in a white corridor, he limped his way over towards the chair Stollar was sitting in, his abdomen wrapped in bandages and his face also covered in a few stitches. Standing in front of the duo was a scowling Gila monster who was clad in a gray suit with a striped yellow and blue tie. The scaly anthro grumbled as he looked at Cale.

“How is he?” the reptile asked.

“Traumatized.”

“Good.” The Gila monster cleared his throat before adjusting the blue badge pinned onto his suit. “Not sure why you had to blow off his package though. You act like the asshole raped _you_.”

“He did.”

The Gila monster’s eyes widened as he looked at Cale, who somehow seemed perfectly stoic. “Um…fuck. Well…you-you need to talk—”

“I’m fine, Baross.”

“Cale, you got sexually assaulted. I wouldn’t blame you—”

“Baross. I’m dying. I’ve been dying for over three years now, and it’s getting worse. There are days where I wonder if the bones in my body will spontaneously crumble, or if all my organs will just rupture because I was punched in the gut too hard. Every day I’m in some form of pain, and it’s always different. So trust me when I tell you that getting sodomized by a pit bull is nothing more than a bee sting on my hindquarters.”

Baross stared at Cale before flicking his eyes over at Stollar, who also seemed stoic. “All right…I mean, it’s your call.”

“Spare us the kind words,” Stollar interrupted. “Whatcha gonna yell at us for this time?”

“Well, seems like the rest of Knochen City is gonna be as traumatized as Gobor after your last stunt. Been proving to be quite useful for our organization.”

“I caught a fugitive from Tero, Agent Kullwin. S’what matters,” Cale growled.

“You and your partner killed dozens of police officers and damaged a city’s primary enforcement agency. You are aware of that, yes?”

“Those officers were corrupt. All we did was lower the amount of police brutality.”

Agent Kullwin took a deep breath as he rubbed his eyes. “Cale. You don’t get it. We’re not walking around carrying pooper scoopers. If you shit on the floor, you pick it up. You don’t contact us so we have to clean up your mess!”

“Last time I checked, the reason why criminals like Gobor are still running around is because organizations like the IGPA are too incompetent to catch them,” Stollar added. “S’why you hired us, is it not? Cause if we die, it won’t blow back on _your_ valuable agency.”

“We hire people like you two to handle these situations _discretely_! What part of that do you not understand?! The two bodies down in LynKaster City, not to mention that young rabbit you shot? The massacre in Thurgor Town? Fuck’s sake, we’re _still_ counting the bodies from the Knochen Stadium attack! Don’t either of you get it? The second you two attacked the police force, Gobor set off that chemical weapon inside a crowded arena! So when crying parents were desperately calling the police for help, you two were busy killing all the officers! And since the Liberators—”

“Shut your mouth,” Stollar barked, before limping as he stood from his chair. “You say you don’t carry pooper scoopers? Yeah, you don’t. Because you gave ‘em to people like _us_. So while you’re busy taking all the credit for apprehending the criminals _we_ capture, we’re the ones who end up like this!” Stollar said, showing off his various injuries. “So if you wanna stand there and lecture us, fine, go ahead. But take your goddamn ‘pooper scoopers’ with you and pick up the shit you keep forcing us to collect!”

Agent Kullwin glared at Stollar and rolled his tongue around his mouth, trying to think of anything to say that would be a proper retort. But Stollar and Cale knew that the alopid was right. The IGPA wouldn’t fire either of them, and they’d continue to give them the tools they needed to keep doing what they were doing.

“The DRPO is gonna have a field day with this,” Baross murmured.

“Then deal with it,” Cale growled. “A terrorist set off a chemical device in a stadium and killed thousands. Rebels in Knochen City attacked a police precinct. Don’t go into detail. Don’t mention names. None of that is false reporting, because _technically_ , that actually happened.”

Baross exhaled. “Fine. But next time, maybe _try_ not to do anything that’ll draw attention to the media—or us, for that matter.”

“Whatever.”

Agent Kullwin didn’t feel like talking to either of them anymore, so he just shook his head and grumbled as he turned and walked away from the duo. Once he was gone, Cale and Stollar leaned against the wall, feeling exhausted from their fight against Gobor’s forces.

“You okay?” Stollar asked softly.

“Did you not hear me earlier?” Cale snarled. “I don’t need a therapist. I don’t need to ‘talk’ to anyone. I got raped. It was humiliating. It hurt. I’m not in denial about it. But the guy who raped me had to have his dick cut off, and his testicles are so mutilated that they’ll probably have to clip those too. So trust me, Stollar, I’m fine.”

Stollar turned and looked up at the lion. “That’s not what I mean.”

Cale looked down at the alopid and softened up a bit. He looked away and grumbled as he felt his heart beating and sighed.

“I’m struggling,” he admitted. “Coughed up a lot of blood when I was sneaking through the tower…almost got killed because of it.”

“Is it affecting your bones?”

Cale shrugged. “Might be.”

Stollar huffed as he slowly covered his face with his hands and sat back down in his chair. When he took his hands down, the alopid shook his head and sniffed.

“Maybe we should stop,” Stollar exhaled. “Or at least let someone a bit more ‘experienced’ try to take down this Cartel.”

Cale snorted. “You giving up? And define ‘experienced.’ I’ve been at this for years; I know what I’m doing.”

“But you’re sick, Cale. And you’re getting old. Maybe this pathogen has been affecting your mind—”

“Don’t even. I’m perfectly sane, Stollar. You know that.”

“Even so…you heard what Agent Kullwin said.”

“Baross was just being a pessimist, like he always is.”

“No, Cale. He was stating _facts_. Look, I’m not saying it’s your fault that all these innocent people are dead. God knows I tried my damnedest to save the people on that bus…”

Stollar stopped for a moment, as if he was briefly taken back to the explosion that nearly killed him and claimed over twenty innocent lives. But he exhaled and resumed speaking again.

“All I’m saying is that we have enough money to say bollocks to all of this. We’ve no idea if they’ll make a cure for the pathogen before it’s too late. Wouldn’t blame you if you decided to retire early.”

“Negative. I’m seeing this through.”

Huffing, Stollar swallowed and asked, “How many people died in that basketball stadium?”

“So far? Nine thousand. And it’d be easier to track down the people who _weren’t_ injured or aren’t in critical condition in the hospital.”

“Fuck. And we’ve no idea how to find Kolson Arcornoc. …And the Cartel has enough of that pathogen to destroy a moon.”

“Basically.”

Stollar paused for several seconds before asking, “Are we even the right people for this job anymore?”

Cale shrugged. “Don’t matter. We’re the people the IGPA decided to work with given our skills. So they’re stuck with us.”

“Cale. Answer the question _directly_.”

“No. We’re not the right people. But that’s all irrelevant. S’far as I know, we stopped an assassin from assassinating more victims, we stopped a scientist from experimenting on innocent civilians, and we stopped a serial rapist and corrupt police officer from raping anyone else and using his power to commit crimes. Just like Agent Kullwin, what I said are _facts_ , Stollar.”

“Yeah…I guess so,” Stollar said softly.

“And we’ll stop Kolson too. And the Baron. You can count on that.”

“But will we stop them from gassing that moon? Sure, we got Gobor, _after_ he gassed that stadium and blew up a bus.”

“Yes. We’ll stop the Baron in time.”

Stollar glared at Cale. “Will we?”

Cale looked down at the alien and took a few soft breaths. Then he ran a few fingers through his thick mane before exhaling and shaking his head.

“I don’t know,” he finally responded, before folding his arms.

“I’m just not sure anymore…”


	13. The Cooldown

_“Cale. Please. Just talk to me,” Keevonu said._

_The burly lion didn’t say anything. He remained on his bed while the snow leopard stood in the doorway, looking far more tired than usual. Cale turned slightly and looked at the bed he and Keevonu slept in just the other night, and he felt like vomiting. The anthro grumbled to himself while Keevonu exhaled and walked towards him._

_“Don’t touch me,” Cale snarled._

_Keevonu huffed and rolled his eyes. “Stop acting like a kitten. I know you’re sick—”_

_“No, Drake, I should be acting like a kitten. That’s what I am, right? Kittens cry when they’re in pain. Kittens can’t be independent; they need someone to take care of them. Kittens shit themselves in bed while they’re sleeping.”_

_Cale grumbled as he looked at the bed again, folding his arms and slowly moving off the mattress. Keevonu rubbed his eyes and huffed._

_“Hey. I did tell you to stay away from the gumbo,” the snow leopard joked._

_“You think this is funny?!” Cale yelled._

_Keevonu frowned. “No, hon. I’m just—”_

_“Making light of the situation. Sure, right, like you always do.”_

_Keevonu stammered. “What-what do you want me to do, Cale? I don’t have a cure for the pathogen. I can’t make you feel better; I can’t fix you!”_

_“What you can do is stop lying to me.”_

_“Lying about what? I’m not cheating on you or anything; you know whenever I go on a mission I’m tracking down a criminal. Y’know, so we can afford paying your medical bills?”_

_Cale snapped his fingers and pointed at Keevonu. “That right there! RIGHT! THERE! I’m not your partner anymore, am I? I’m just some ‘thing’ you have to take care of! Nothing’s like it used to be before I got infected. I rarely go on assignments with you anymore. I just sit on my ass gaining weight and watching the same damn programs on television every day!”_

_“Cale…you’re not some ‘thing,’ okay? We’re still partners. I still love you. Isn’t that all that matters?”_

_“Yes. Sure. You love me, and everything about me. You love that I vomit at least twice a week. You love that anytime I leave our ship, I have to wear diapers as a precaution. You love my halitosis so much that you never kiss me anymore. And clearly you love washing our bedsheets or scrubbing the floors whenever I fail to reach the bathroom in time! You don’t look at me the same way anymore; you don’t treat me the way you used to. So don’t stand there and act like everything’s just fine!”_

_Keevonu took a deep breath before he leaned against the wall and shook his head slowly. “You’re dying, Cale,” he said softly. “Of course I treat you differently. Of course I don’t look at you the same way. I’m looking at a grape shriveling up in the sun, and I can’t do a goddamn thing about it. You think I enjoy seeing you like this? You think I enjoy having these arguments all the time now?”_

_“So now you’re blaming me.”_

_“NO! I didn’t—” Keevonu inhaled sharply and shut his eyes, forcing himself to calm down. He opened his eyes back up slowly and started glaring at Cale. “The difference between you and me, Cale, is that I’m actually trying. You aren’t! I’m the one who’s still catching criminals so we don’t go broke! I’m the one who’s taking care of you! I’m the one who’s paying all of your medical bills! I’m the one who constantly has to cuddle you and tell you ‘it’s gonna be okay’ when you break down crying hysterically in the middle of the night! All you do is sit around and whine and bitch about everything, about how much your goddamn life sucks. You think that just because you’re the one who’s dying, you don’t have to empathize with anyone else. Including me, Cale!”_

_Cale didn’t say anything for a very long time. He looked away from the snow leopard for a while before sitting back down on the bed and snarling._

_“Get out,” he said softly._

_“Cale, don’t—”_

_“I said leave.”_

_Keevonu stared at the sullen lion. And then he scoffed and shook his head before murmuring, “Fuck it.”_

_Cale still remained silent as Keevonu walked out of the bedroom and sealed the automatic door shut. Once he was gone, Cale grabbed his face and groaned with frustration._

______________________________________

And then he put his paws down as sweat started running down his whole head. He didn’t know which end it would come out first, but he knew it was about to come out. His stomach churning, Cale moaned as he quickly stood up and rushed into the bathroom, having already spent the last hour passing gas nonstop. He turned on the light, pulled down his boxers, and sat on the toilet. Cale spent the next two minutes defecating, feeling as though the weight in his stomach was being excreted into the toilet. When he finally finished, Cale flushed the toilet and began to wipe his bottom. After seeing reddish waste in the toilet, Cale curiously looked at the messy toilet paper, and was disgusted when he saw blood mixed in with his fecal matter. Swearing, Cale finished wiping himself before he got off the toilet and began to breathe heavily. As he washed his paws, he felt his stomach hurting again, the nausea still affecting him, his head still dizzy, even though he slept for a few hours. Cale was just starting to walk out of the bathroom when it hit him.

He rushed back inside and promptly threw up in the toilet profusely, gurgling and retching as he released well over a pint’s worth of bile into the porcelain. And just like his excrement, Cale was disturbed when he noticed that some of the bile had a reddish hue to it. Shaking and whimpering, Cale flushed the toilet again before he rinsed his mouth out in the sink. Afterwards, he walked back into his bedroom and put on his FCD so he could contact Dr. Goode.

“Cale. What have I told you—”

“Shut up,” Cale said, sounding frantic. “I need…I need more pills.”

“You ran out _again_?”

“N-no, but I need something stronger. These pills aren’t working. Couple days ago I started coughing up blood in the middle of a shootout. I puked in the toilet just a minute ago and there were traces of blood in my bile. And I’m fairly certain I just came down with a case of dysentery.”

“Cale…has that happened before?”

“No. Worst I got was blood in my urine, but that was only because my right kidney was injured during one of my cases. The pathogen had nothing to do with it.”

The elk huffed. “Cale…I gave you the strongest pills there are. Those pills and the potions are the only known vaccines for the T1-A5 pathogen.”

“So what are you saying, I just have to deal with this shit now?”

“No, Cale…there have been victims of the pathogen who lasted only a few months—some died within _weeks_. The fact that you’ve survived for over three years and can still walk is an enigma. All that being said…the final stages of the pathogen’s effects are usually internal hemorrhaging, which results in excreting blood from various orifices. Given your excessive stomach issues, it’s safe to say your intestines will never function properly again.”

Cale exhaled as he rubbed his eyes. “Goddamn it…so now I have to get surgery done.”

“That’s not what I mean. _All_ of your organs have been decaying for the past few years. Your intestines were the first ones to go. It won’t matter if you replace them; it won’t even matter if you get a synthetic organ. We could replace every single organ in your body, but that won’t do anything to repair your skeletal structure because that’s been decaying too. Even if all of this worked, Cale, you’re nearly sixty years old. Your body wouldn’t survive the surgery anyway.”

Cale paused for a very long time. He sat down on the floor in front of his bed, fully realizing what the doctor was implying. He couldn’t think of any words to say, so he just stared at the wall in front of him.

“Cale? You still there?”

“So…so even if they find the cure tomorrow…in the next hour even…it…”

“…I’m sorry, Cale. All we can do—”

Whatever else Dr. Goode planned on saying was irrelevant. Cale lowered his right arm and stopped the call. Still staring blankly ahead, Cale took off his FCD and tossed it on the floor. But he didn’t get back up, nor did he start crying or breaking everything in his room. He just sat still and kept looking at the wall while he listened to his ship’s engine rumbling gently through space.

________________________________

Somewhere on planet Drorix, another anthro was staring straight ahead as well. But he looked far more agitated than Cale was, and the anthro sitting across from him wasn’t sure what would happen next. The arctic fox blinked as he set his paws on the table, while Kolson Arcornoc cleared his throat and looked around the office, feeling exposed.

“Well, it’s…” Kolson cleared his throat again. “It’ll certainly be much quieter now that Gobor is gone.”

“Do you believe the decibel level in this room is what I care about?” the Baron asked, his voice monotone.

“No, Baron. Of course not.”

“And yet you bring it up. Mm. I’m noticing a pattern here.”

“What pattern?”

“Incompetence. Dillvor, Dr. Oblingor, Grizzer—you all have _something_ about you that makes you a liability. Usually, this incompetence was nothing major. Maybe you forgot to eliminate someone. Maybe you delivered a package to the wrong person. Maybe you put too much trust in your minions, _Kolson_. But now I see that even a _tiny_ shred of hard wood can grind a pallet jack’s wheels to a complete halt.”

The brown goat glared at the Baron and sniffed. “What about _you_ , Baron? What the hell have you been doing lately except sitting in your damn tower and giving us orders? You haven’t been overseeing _any_ of our operations lately; you haven’t been assisting any of us in developing or transporting the chemicals; hell, all you’ve done was talk to a giant wasp and tell us what we need to do for _you_. So don’t sit there and throw all of the blame at our feet!”

At first, the Baron didn’t do a thing. He kept sitting still and staring at Kolson, not moving a fraction of his body. But then the white-furred fox stood up from his seat, still maintaining his composure, and slowly made his way across the room over to Kolson. The Baron absent-mindedly looked at his claws and wiped some dirt out from underneath them before he walked behind the goat’s chair and blinked, his right paw near his pockets.

“Indeed. I have become incompetent as well. I was fully aware of all of these inconsistences, all these seemingly innocuous flaws you four possess. But I overlooked them all. That’s _my_ fault, and mine alone. It all makes sense now. Cale Tomlik. The Liberators in Knochen City. The fact that three of my trusted employees were so easily captured after putting up with the same routine for many years. Pebbles. All of them. It’s all just pebbles someone threw into my machine. And quite a few of them were fortunate enough to get caught between the gears. …Now everything is on standstill. Everything is falling apart.”

“So you’ve found the problem to your ‘broken clock,’ is that what you’re saying?”

“That’s an accurate summation.”

“So stop being a little bitch and fix it! You don’t want your machine to fall apart? Then find those damn ‘pebbles’ and get rid of them!”

Kolson looked down at the Baron’s right paw. He frowned. A small, serrated knife was gripped in his palm.

“Certainly.”

The Baron started to raise the knife to Kolson’s throat.

“Hold up, hold up, hold up, this—this isn’t what I meant.”

“You’re a liability, just like the other three. We’re in the final stages of my plan. May as well get rid of you and hire more _professional_ couriers to execute the delivery.”

“You still need me, Baron—you need me,” Kolson said, panting.

“I don’t.”

“Yes, you do! My crew—I’m close to ‘em. I know most of ‘em! Hell, I fuckin’ eat dinner with them sometimes! You kill me, they’re gonna know it was you, and they’re gonna come after you.”

“They don’t know who I am. They don’t even know my name. Neither do you.”

“My point still stands! You say I’m a liability? Fine, whatever. But if you kill me, you’re going to create _several_ liabilities, all of which will want your head on a spike. You’re already whining about these insignificant ‘pebbles’ ruining your ‘machine,’ so what do you think will happen if you kill me?”

The Baron continued to stare at Kolson Arcornoc. A small smile appeared on the fox’s face, and he slowly put his knife away before chuckling.

“You see, Kolson? The other three never would’ve been able to handle that properly.”

As if to tease the goat even further, the Baron walked behind Kolson and started to pat him on the head, causing the goat to grunt.

“Perhaps I spoke out. It was my fault for assuming you’d be careless in your tasks. My apologies.”

The Baron wouldn’t stop petting Kolson’s head. When the goat tried to move his paw away, the arctic fox planted it firmly against his scalp and started to squeeze.

“Baron…there’s no need—”

“All you need to know, dear Kolson, is that I still trust you.”

The Baron started to tighten his grip, his claws pressing against the goat’s head.

“And I’ve no reason to question your loyalty.”

Kolson swallowed and took a long breath. “No, Baron, you’ve no reason—”

The goat yelped when the office door slammed open. Kolson and the Baron turned and looked at the double doors, which had been kicked open, and spotted Commander Maynard in his shiny red armor. The colossal apid snarled and clacked his mandibles as he stepped into the office, his thin wings fluttering a few times as he approached the table Kolson and the Baron were standing at.

“We have a doorknob,” the Baron said calmly.

Commander Maynard slurped as he turned and gazed at the fox. “Oh, yes. I am aware. And _we_ have presents for you. A mere incentive to persuade you with your mission.”

The giant bee-like alien snapped two of his fingers and beckoned for his soldiers to come inside. Three more apids carrying large packages walked into the office, slurping or buzzing softly to themselves as they walked over to the table. Kolson and the Baron began to observe the packages and noticed that fluids were leaking from them.

“Lemme guess,” Kolson said, rolling his eyes. “There’s heads in those boxes.”

The apids opened up the packages and dumped out the contents. Multiple severed heads landed on the desk and rolled for a moment, thumping and leaving various blood trails. Kolson’s eyes widened as he looked at Commander Maynard.

“I was joking,” he said in disbelief.

Maynard exhaled as he grabbed a chair. He stared at the piece of furniture before he turned it around and sat on the chair backwards so his corpulent abdomen could hang from it. The Baron flicked his eyes at the severed heads before glaring at Maynard and folding his arms.

“There are far more efficient ways to intimidate me,” the fox started. “All you’ve done is force my maid to work overtime today.”

“Do you not recognize these apids’ heads, Baron?” Maynard asked, before clacking his mandibles. “They had quite a few words with me when I interrogated them.”

“You spoke to severed heads?”

Maynard blinked and paused. Then he said, “Now Baron, I thought we had a deal. You destroy this moon for me, you earn billions of dollars. A simple exchange, yes?”

“Correct.”

“So then why did these apid soldiers try to infiltrate my army? Why have they been getting very cozy with me, trying to know about my armada’s strength? Hmm?”

The white fox exhaled as he walked over to the apid and smiled. “Commander. You are being paranoid—”

Commander Maynard spat in the Baron’s face, causing him to stagger and yelp. The fox shouted as he backed away and felt warm, sticky fluids dripping onto his clean suit.

“Fuck!” the fox shouted.

“Hehehehe…yeah…it’s okay, Baron. I understand. You saw me as a liability. You saw a possible threat in the future, and you wanted to eliminate it. You saw…you saw a _bug_. You saw a bug, and you just _had_ to step on it. You could’ve left it alone, but no…my presence just makes you mammals squirm.”

Kolson grumbled as he approached the giant wasp-like alien and made a fist. “Commander—”

“I do not talk to bitches! SIT YOUR ASS DOWN!” the apid snarled.

The goat looked up at the other apids in the room. They were all carrying plasma rifles equipped with deadly bullets that could shred his body to pieces since he wore no armor. Snorting, the goat moved backwards and sat back down, while the Baron snarled and stomped towards the commander.

“You’ve any idea how much this suit costs you repugnant insect? You think this is funny?!” the fox asked.

“Li’l bit,” Commander Maynard responded, before chuckling.

“You’ve already barged into my office unannounced making these outrageous accusations. Don’t—”

“Admit it. Admit that you tried to have me killed, and then I will leave.”

The Baron scoffed and folded his arms. “So what if I did? You would’ve done the same.”

“No,” Maynard said, as he stood back up. “The difference between me and you? Those heads on the table would be of you and your _bitch_ here. I would’ve gotten the job finished. But you…people like you…all the fuckin’ same. I knew a dreadful swine like you once. Absolutely _repulsive_ creature. He was a lot more, err, ‘vocal’ than you are though. And just like you, he tried to take on something far bigger than he could comprehend. Found out later that he got chopped up and was sold in his own butchery.”

“This is a riveting story,” the Baron said, wiping off some of the nasty saliva from his suit, “but I can assure you that betraying you wouldn’t have benefitted me at all.”

The commander huffed. “It really would be easy, just reaching forward and tearing your head right off your shoulders. Hehe, but no…there’s no sportsmanship in that, no ‘fun’ as you anthros and humans like to call it. ‘Sides, you’re still valuable to me. Tell me; is my weapon in the process of being deployed?”

“It’s in the final stages, Commander Maynard,” Kolson answered. “Feel free to head down to my facility to go check on it if it’ll comfort your inflated ego.”

Maynard turned and contorted his face, almost in a way that seemed like an awkward smile. “No need for that, _bitch_. I ‘trust’ the both of you. Although,” Maynard paused as he looked around the office. “I’m curious. Where’s the rest of you? Isn’t this the Quintuple Cartel, not the Duo Cartel?”

“Don’t concern yourself about those matters,” the Baron quickly stated. “It’s irrelevant.”

Commander Maynard didn’t say anything. He just stared at the arctic fox and the brown goat for a moment before he walked up to the Baron, towering over him by at least two feet. The mighty apid looked down at the fox before he lightly petted him between his ears and chuckled.

“Such _fun_ creatures to play with,” the commander growled.

The Baron didn’t say or do anything. He just waited until the apid stopped touching him and moved backwards. Then he gurgled and shouted something at his guards in a garbled language the Baron couldn’t understand, and the winged aliens left the fox’s office. Once they were gone, the Baron slowly made a fist with one paw and started to grit his teeth. Kolson looked at the heads on the desk and swallowed as he stood up.

“Baron, it’s still poss—”

“DON’T!” the fox bellowed.

Kolson exhaled. “We just…we’ll just stick with our original plan then. We go along with the commander’s orders.”

“Yes,” the Baron said, huffing. “Clearly this has not gone the way I intended.”

“Maybe we can still spin this to our favor. Maybe we could rig the pathogen—”

“We’re not taking any chances, not after this. My operation has already been cut down to forty percent thanks to this Cale Tomlik. So let’s just give the commander what he wants and be done with it.”

The goat nodded. “Understood.”

Even though Kolson hadn’t dismissed him, the brown goat figured it was best to leave now instead of waiting. He slowly made his way towards the door before hurryingly shutting it and jogging his way towards the elevator in the tower. As the Baron looked at the stain on his suit, he walked back over to his personal desk and sat down, where he had his two clocks sitting beside his computer. Frustrated, he shoved the digital clock on the floor before huffing and looking at the wooden one. It was still ticking, but very slowly. The frustrated fox knew in the back of his mind that it was beginning to break as well. He looked at his computer for a moment before sliding up his right sleeve, exposing his FCD. The Baron pushed a few buttons on the device before listening to a small amount of static interference.

“Yeah?” said a gruff voice.

“You know why I’m calling,” said the Baron matter-of-factly.

“So I got a green light?”

The Baron paused for a moment before licking his teeth. “Set the bombs. But don’t detonate them…not just yet. This is only a precaution for now.”

“Then why bother calling if you don’t want to go through with it?”

“Set the bombs. Those are your orders.”

The gruff voice on the other end exhaled. “Whatever you say.”

The other caller hung up, while the Baron slid his sleeve back down and kept staring at the screen, still wondering what would happen in the near future.

________________________________________

Stollar grunted as he wandered around Cale’s spaceship, still limping a bit from the beatings he took. He looked inside the refrigerator in the mess hall after hearing his stomach grumble, only to frown when he noticed most of Cale’s food consisted of beef and chicken.

“Damn anthros. Why doesn’t _anyone_ like to eat glowing acorn worms?”

Stollar huffed as he shut the fridge and walked over to Cale’s bedroom door. “Hey, Cale! Can we stop in Demyl for a bit and get a jar of acorn worms? They got stores down there catered to aliens like me!”

The alopid headed over to Cale’s door and knocked. He didn’t hear anything from inside, and the alien scratched his head.

“Um. You’re not masturbating, are you?”

“No,” said a low voice from inside.

“Oh. Um…did you shit yourself again?”

“No, Stollar. You can come in.”

Stollar shrugged his shoulders before pressing a button on the keypad beside the door. The metal door slid open in under a second with a faint whoosh, revealing Cale’s bedroom. It didn’t take Stollar long to find Cale sitting down beside his bed, part of his face wet with tears as he held the picture of himself and Keevonu.

“Oh…um. Shit, I thought—I…I’m sorry; I’ll come back later.”

“Stay,” Cale said softly, as another tear fell from his right eye.

Stollar was just walking out of the room when he turned back around and walked over to Cale. Both of them listened to the ship’s engines rumbling while the lion looked down at the photo and caressed it gently.

“I don’t know why I still have this…it’s not like a portal. It’s not…like I can look at this and magically go back in time.”

“S’a reminder, that’s all. Hell, I can understand that. You wanna be reminded of the good times.”

“Heh, ‘good times,’ he says. Sure…they _were_ good times. But what are they now, Stollar? Memories? Some…something to look at to reminisce? Something…to keep me from killing myself?”

Stollar opened his mouth, but Cale interrupted him before he could start speaking.

“Oh, right. You said it yourself. It’s a reminder. …It’s a reminder of what I can no longer have. It’s a reminder that everything I do goes wrong, and everything I touch turns to shit. I was in a very dark place before all this started…Drake brought me back. He gave me everything I wanted…”

Cale wiped his right eye and sniffled. “I didn’t have anything,” he said, his voice breaking. “But then he came along. And I thought, for once, maybe my life was finally back on track. Maybe things were looking up for me. Maybe I could finally be happy with myself. …But no. Same things that always happens. I fucked it up. And now he’s gone.”

Cale tossed the picture aside before shaking his head and huffing. “I almost died in LynKaster City, Yordin and I killed all those mindless anthros in that lab, I couldn’t stop Gobor from attacking that basketball stadium—these are all just checkboxes I’m ticking off in a very long list, Stollar. And where are we now? Don’t know who the Baron is. Don’t know what’ll happen next after he finishes blowing up that moon.”

“Cale—”

“And I’m sure whatever the Baron does will be blamed on me, like _everything_ is. If I don’t do anything, then obviously it’s _my_ fault for being a lazy, selfish twat who puts himself above others. And if I do decide to do anything, I’m going to fuck it up somehow, and obviously it’ll be _my_ fault.”

Stollar noticed that the lion was shaking a bit as more tears came out of his right eye. He started gripping his paws into fists, looking like he was ready to punch a hole into a wall.

“I’m tired of ruining everything that I do! I’m tired of everything somehow being my fault!”

Stollar didn’t know what to do about the lion. He felt his own eyes watering, but the last thing he felt that Cale needed was for someone to cry over his current predicament. So he slowly walked over to the burly figure and did what he thought would make him feel better. He got on his knees and hugged the anthro, wrapping his dangly arms around his thick frame. Stollar shut his eyes as he embraced the lion, but Cale snarled as he reached forward and shoved him backwards onto the floor.

“I DON’T NEED YOUR GODDAMN PITY!” Cale hollered.

Stollar grunted as he stood up and walked towards the feline fueled with ire. “So…so you _don’t_ want me to hug you?”

“NO! Why the fuck would you think I need—”

Cale shouted when Stollar abruptly punched him in the nose. The anthro shut his eyes and groaned as he grasped his nose with one paw, hoping that it wouldn’t start bleeding again. When he looked up at Stollar, he noticed that the alien was the one who looked aggravated and was gritting his teeth.

“You’re right, Cale, you don’t need my pity! You need to get your shit together! This is not the time for you to be having some goddamn existential crisis! You said it yourself: we’re _not_ the right people for this job. We should be going after criminals who escaped from prison or people who are trying to sell child porn on the Internet, not some goddamn intergalactic cartel! But you know what? We’re in it now, and we can’t do shit about it!”

Stollar huffed as he started to walk left and right, unable to keep himself from pacing. “I-I thought about that guy, that bomber I talked to on that bus. He was just ‘some guy,’ nothing more. I told him straight to his face that I didn’t give a shit about who he was. But you know what? It probably _did_ matter. That bomber was no different from you, Cale. He had a family, a home, everything he wanted. Then some asshole like Gobor ruined everything for him. And instead of trying to move forward, that bomber submitted. He said ‘fuck the whole world’ and he died acting as some suicide bomber. And I’m sure he blamed himself for his family’s death, even though he had no control over that bomb going off in his neighborhood. And instead of me trying to sympathize with what happened to him, I just told him he was being a selfish twat. Which, technically, he _was_ , but not solely on his own volition.”

The alopid chuckled as he ran a hand across his face. “That’s the meaning, isn’t it? Life itself. S’all it is! You live your life, you grow old, then someone like Gobor comes along with his cock hangin’ out and says ‘bend over.’ And it’s up to us to splay our buttocks and let that fucker slide in, or for us to do what we did to Gobor, and sever the phallus and keep moving forward.”

Sighing, Stollar sat down on the bed while Cale remained on the floor. He looked down at the lion before relaxing himself and grunting.

“Maybe that’s just it, Cale. Maybe we’re supposed to fail. Maybe you were supposed to get infected with the pathogen. Maybe Keevonu was supposed to leave you. Maybe I wasn’t supposed to stop that bomb. Fuck it; maybe we’re not supposed to stop the Baron from killing millions upon millions of innocents! But who gives a shit? Just because we failed doesn’t mean that the bad guys won. I don’t know about you, but I seriously doubt Gobor is celebrating his ‘victory’ right now, considering the state we left him and his empire in.”

After he finished speaking, Stollar rubbed his face before setting his hand on the lion’s right shoulder. “I can’t have you acting like this now. All the shit we’ve been through—all the shit you and Keevonu went through? Uh-uh, no way you’re gonna sit there and just give up after all of this.”

After Cale looked over at Stollar’s hand, he slowly reached up and took it off his shoulder. Then he stood up and looked at Stollar, a small smirk forming on his face as he balled his right paw into a fist. Stollar noticed it too and his eyes started to grow wide.

“Shit, hold up—”

Stollar shouted when the lion punched him in the nose so hard it created an audible _thwack_ sound, and Stollar immediately felt fluids running through his nostrils. Cale chuckled as the alien shut his eyes and grabbed his nose, which was starting to bleed profusely.

“DAMN IT, CALE!”

“We’re even now.”

“Not even, _no_! I didn’t give you a bloody nose!”

Stollar groaned as he got off the bed and headed into the bathroom so he could get some toilet paper. He came back outside with the tissues covering his nose, most of which were already becoming soggy and red.

“You know I’m all spindly; you got those thick-ass arms! THAT AIN’T FAIR!”

“No, but…hold up.” Cale leaned against the wall and started to pick at his mane. “Say that again.”

“This ain’t fair! Fuck, you better not have broken it…”

“No, before that.”

“What, thick-ass arms?”

“Exactly. That’s how all this started. Rellis Rottili was trying to get involved with the Cartel through Gaines. A lot of the illegal shit they smuggle on and off Drorix consists of weapons. Gaines told me Kolson’s name, and given Kolson’s profession, it’s likely the Rottili Family was gonna start doing their deals through him.”

“Are you seriously suggesting we go visit the Rottili Family?”

“Negative. Royman or Rillkyn will kill me on the spot. But I know Rellis has somewhat of a ‘soft spot’ for me.”

Cale grumbled as he folded his arms. “Go see if you can track down Rellis’ last known whereabouts. We find him, we’ll get closer to finding Kolson.”

“I doubt Rellis knows anything.”

“We’ve got no other leads right now. He’s our best option.”

Stollar sighed. “If you say so. I’m just hoping he’s not as ruthless as his brothers…”

_____________________________________________

The giant, corpulent rat mumbled as he sucked on his cigar. He slowly removed it from his mouth and blew out a large cloud of smoke. Rellis Rottili exhaled before he put the cigar back in his maw and took in the flavor of it. He was in the Neon Pole again, standing inside one of the private rooms while two of his guards stood at the door. In front of him on the expensive red sofa was a short light brown wolf who was sniffling and shaking.

“Mr. Rottili, please…you-you know I meant no offense! No-none whatsoever! I’m just…I’ll get the money—”

Rellis held up a paw, signaling the wolf to stop talking. He took out his cigar again and blew out more smoke. “You wanna know what I was doin’ ‘fore I came here?”

The wolf looked at Rellis’ clothing. He was stuffed inside a light green shirt with buttons that had various blue, red, and orange floral patterns all over it. Due to his wide frame, Rellis left his shirt unbuttoned and his thick belly hanging out. The shorts he was wearing were light blue and loose fitting, with Rellis’ dark gut sagging over the waistband. The wolf swallowed before looking up at Rellis’ face.

“U-um…uh…you were at the beach?”

Rellis nodded. “Precisely. I don’t get much free time no mo’. Brothers always whinin’ about business. But today…today was the _one_ day I had time off. And it’s a Saturday too! So here I am, sitting on the beach, relaxing, letting the nice sun warm my fur, eating hot dogs and thinking about possibly ending my glorious day either getting my cock sucked, or getting a rimjob. Then I get a call,” Rellis said, taking a handgun off a nearby table, “stating that Mr. Hunnwyn missed his payment. And of course, _I_ have to take care of it.”

Rellis approached the canine, while Mr. Hunnwyn squealed as he moved around on the sofa.

“Please! I’ll get the mo—NACK! AGGH!”

Rellis slowly pushed the barrel of the gun into the wolf’s mouth, smirking. “David. You know how it goes when it comes to deadlines. I’ve given you plenty of time.”

The rat shoved the gun further, to the point where the wolf started gagging and coughing.

“And all you’ve done was waste it. So now, I’m gonna have to waste you.”

David whimpered as he shut his eyes. And then Rellis pulled the trigger. Everyone was expecting a sudden bang, or for David’s brains to splatter on the wall. But nothing happened. David heard a distinct click, followed by Rellis laughing joyously as he removed the gun from the wolf’s mouth. Still whimpering, David looked down at his pants, and started lowering his ears self-consciously when he saw a puddle between his legs.

“Guess I forgot the bullets! Hehe, my bad!”

Still snickering, the rat turned around and asked his guards, “Hey, that ‘gonna have to waste you’ line—that ain’t sound too cheesy, right?”

“I could see the fondue dribbling from your lips, Boss,” one of the guards responded.

Rellis waved a paw at them. “Bah, y’all know ya liked it!” The rat turned and looked down at the wolf. “Guess it’s your lucky day.”

David looked up at the rat and laughed meekly. “Y-yeah…yeah…lucky me!”

Rellis tossed the gun back on the table and exhaled. “C’mon now, David! I ain’t gonna kill ya! Who else am I gonna play golf with?”

The wolf blinked. “You serious?”

Shrugging, Rellis said, “Eh. Few hundred dollars. So you’re a few days late! I know, I know; shit happens. I ain’t perfect either. Sometimes I forget to pay off my credit cards, or I accidentally forget my cell phone, or I forget to put on underwear…”

“Um, how do you forget—”

“Point is, no reason to blow your brains out cause you a couple days late. You’ll get the money when you get it, won’t you?”

David sniffled as he nodded and stood up. “Definitely. Absolutely!”

“Good! Just, uh, don’t get too comfy, understand? You interrupt my vacation again, and that gun won’t be empty.”

“O-okay…okay, Mr. Rottili.”

David was just about to walk out the door when Rellis stopped him. He dug into his pocket and pulled out a wad of cash before sticking a few twenty-dollar bills into David’s pocket.

“Um, shouldn’t I be giving _you_ money?”

“Not until you buy new pants.”

David looked down at the damp stain on his jeans. Then he looked back up at Rellis’ smirking muzzle and cleared his throat.

“Right.”

The wolf speedily exited the private room and rushed out of the Neon Pole club, while Rellis took a deep breath and looked at the time on his cell phone.

“Mm. S’pose I still got a few hours to kill.”

Rellis walked over to the table and shoved what was left of his cigar into an ash tray, extinguishing it. Then he whistled at his guards and started to exit the private room. Before he could, a burly rhino bouncer shoved Cale and Stollar towards the open door and snorted heavily.

“These two said they got an appointment with you. That correct?” the rhino asked.

Blinking, Rellis looked at Cale in his black vest and pants before looking down at the shirtless alopid only wearing camouflage gray pants. Stollar didn’t even have to walk into the room to notice Rellis’ stench. He gagged and immediately covered his nose with a hand, backing away.

“You know what, I’ll wait outside, Cale,” Stollar said, his voice muffled.

Rellis laughed noisily, his thick gut wobbling. “No, no, by all means, come in! A friend of Cale’s is a friend of mine!”

“Goddamn it,” Stollar grumbled.

Cale and Stollar grunted when the rhinoceros shoved them both inside and slammed the door shut. Rellis’ two rat guards stood beside the door again while the hefty rat bent down and looked at Stollar. He poked him in his stomach a few times before snickering.

“You’re a thin one, aint’cha? Gotta fill that gut of yours, buddy! Dont’cha wanna get all big and strong like me and your buddy Cale?”

“If it means I don’t have to stand here and smell your breath any longer, sure. I’ll do what you want,” Stollar said, trying not to gag.

Rellis laughed in the alien’s face, causing Stollar to turn away as he waved a hand in front of his nose. Then the rat stood up straight and looked at Cale’s body, noticing that he had several bruises and scratches compared to the last time they met.

“I see you’ve been busy! Guess you wanted to finally take a break, come join me on my vacation, eh?”

“Unfortunately, no,” Cale said, exhaling. “Although at this point, I wouldn’t mind spending some time with _you_ if it means I can take a break.”

“Hey, job’s a job. S’how it goes!”

The corpulent rodent exhaled as he dug into his shirt and took out another cigar. He stuck it inside his mouth as he started looking for his lighter.

“Real talk though? I heard about the shit that went down in Knochen City…was all over the news. Given your history an’ all, something tells me you were responsible for that.”

“Kinda. They won’t release names, but let’s just say that Stollar and I were there. And Gobor don’t got a penis anymore.”

Rellis nodded before he took out the lighter and lit the smoking device. “Good…can’t stand fuckers like Gobor Grizzer. Always giving people like _us_ a bad name. People always thinkin’ since I’m a fag _and_ a criminal, I’m gonna rape your ass.”

Cale blinked. “You were more than touchy-feely the last time we spoke…”

The obese rat chuckled. “C’mon now, Cale! You know I wasn’t gonna take it _that_ far! I’m flaunty-showy, not touchy-feely!”

“That’s…better?”

“Yeah, that _is_ better,” Rellis said, blowing out some smoke as he removed the cigar. “Never understood the point of rape, even in prison. That shit ain’t fun anyway; why have sex with someone who don’t want it? You’re turning something that should be passionate and sensual into something that’s dominating and abusive.”

Stollar self-consciously looked away and remained silent, while Cale just chuckled and rubbed his forehead.

“Wasn’t aware you had such moral standards.”

“There’s a line, Cale. I can cross it, but once I do, that line’s gonna disappear—and so will the person prior to crossing said line.”

Rellis exhaled as he leaned against the table and sucked on his cigar for a moment. “Sorry. Bit of a tangent there. Bottom line? After what you and your buddy did to Gobor, I’ll gladly help you two if you need it!”

“We need it,” Cale responded.

The rat nodded. “You two need someone ‘disposed’ of?”

“To some extent,” Stollar added. “You were trying to get in bed with the Quintuple Cartel, right?”

Rellis nodded. “Yeah, but everything was gonna be handled through that polar bear—uh, Gaines I think. And Cale took care of him, last I recall.”

“Did you ever speak to Kolson directly?”

“Few times, yeah. Why?”

“Is there any way you could contact him again, set up another deal with him personally?”

Rellis inhaled sharply and scratched his big gut before removing the cigar and expelling smoke. “Ehhhhh, that may be a problem. Since I blew off our last deal, I doubt he’s gonna bother talking to me again. Been told he doesn’t like having his time wasted.”

Groaning, Cale rubbed his face and said, “Do you know anybody involved in Kolson’s inner circle?”

“Maybe. I know this guy I had, err, ‘relations’ with for a while. This real big tortoise named Franz.”

“Does he know all about Kolson’s operations?”

“Yes, but no. Apparently he retired.”

Cale smacked his paw against his face. “And you don’t know where he is.”

“Maaaaaaaybe. Maaaaaaaaaaybe not.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that maybe I’ll help you two. Maybe I’ll contact Franz and meet him personally, perhaps ask him a few questions. And, uh…maybe he might know a few things…”

Cale exhaled. “You want something.”

Rellis started to smirk. “Well, you’re about to take down one of the galaxy’s biggest smuggling operations. Maybe, uh…” Rellis scratched his face. “Maybe you come across something like that gun you carry. Maybe some of those weapons you may or may not come across may or may not fall into my grubby paws.”

“And I’m assuming if we disagree, or if we back out of the deal, you may or may not kill us,” Cale concluded.

“Now, now, Cale, no need to be so violent! I know for a fact that I won’t be able to kill you. My brothers though?” Rellis sucked on his teeth. “Different story.”

Stollar cleared his throat noisily. “Yeah, hi, so, how do we know you won’t turn around and use the same guns we give you back on us?”

“You don’t,” Rellis truthfully answered. “But the fact that you’re talking to someone like me means you’re in a hurry, or you’re desperate. So obviously, you will agree to my terms.”

Rellis tapped some of the ash off the end his cigar before placing it back in his maw. “Number’s 395-089-4411. Shoot me a message later and I’ll call you once I figure out Kolson’s whereabouts.”

“Understood,” Cale responded.

Rellis allowed Cale and Stollar to walk out of the private room. As the two of them headed for the club’s exit, Stollar grumbled and shook his head.

“So we’ve gone from killing cops to working alongside a mob boss. We’re on a roll this month, aren’t we?”

“Affirmative.”

“Well. I doubt that Rellis will find Franz in a matter of minutes, or even hours. The hell are we supposed to do until then? Sit on our asses twiddling our thumbs?”

“Oh trust me, we’re definitely sitting on our asses,” Cale said, smirking. “But I wouldn’t exactly say we’re gonna twiddle our thumbs.”

“What does that mean?”

Cale blinked and scratched near his artificial eye. “In our spare time, Keevonu and I found enjoyment in watching…specific forms of videos and television series and films. Boring, sure, but it definitely helped pass the time until we went on our next mission.”

“Define ‘specific.’”

Cale grinned very widely. “You’ll see.”


	14. The Friendship

Cale and Stollar were in Cale’s spaceship at the moment, relaxing in his bedroom as they sat on his mattress. Stollar grimaced as he looked down in his lap at the massive bucket filled with greasy nachos. He squinted a bit as he leaned downwards, sniffing the cheesy meal that had steam rising from it. As he stared at the crunchy meal, he could see that baked chunks of chicken were mixed in with the crunchy nourishment, and Cale had sprinkled what seemed to be jalapeño peppers on top of the dish. The alien looked over at Cale’s giant bucket and noticed he had the exact same dish, except his nachos were seasoned with black olives and sour cream.

“Um…so what is this again?”

“You’ve never heard of nachos?” Cale asked.

“No, I’ve heard of nachos, Cale,” Stollar said, before picking up one of the triangle-shaped tortilla shells and watching as the goopy cheese and meat slid from it. “This is a basket full of pungent vomit with some chips sprinkled on top of it.”

The alien glared at Cale. “Are you serving me your bile, Cale?”

“Affirmative,” Cale said, as he shoveled three nachos loaded with cheese and chicken into his maw. “Don’t ask what it is; just eat it.”

“Is it going to screw up my stomach to the same extent as yours?”

Cale shrugged and pointed at a door. “Bathroom’s right there.”

Stollar rolled his eyes. “Fine.”

As Stollar started to eat some of his nachos, Cale reached over and grabbed the remote on his nightstand. He turned on the monitor placed on the wall ahead of his mattress before bringing up a menu. The lion murmured to himself as he started looking through an assortment of programs that were categorized.

“Back up, back up, what’s that one?”

Cale flipped through the programs until he highlighted an animated series depicting a series of anthro felines who were all dressed lecherously, with emphasis on their breasts or wide hips. Cale frowned as he looked at the program and grumbled.

“Oh. That’s _Blaster Omega’s Kitty Show_. It’s some anime about a bunch of cats who fight the forces of evil in giant mechs.”

“Let’s watch that!” Stollar said, enthusiastically.

Cale sucked on his teeth. “Yeah. No.”

“Awwww. Why not?”

“Because it’s poorly-written _trash_ that is trying way too fucking hard to push its feminist agenda while also being hypocritical by over-sexualizing _all_ of the female characters.”

Stollar stammered. “But-but look at the ratings! It’s got four-and-a-half stars! That _must_ mean it’s good!”

“No. That means half of the viewers saw titties, and the other half saw giant robots, so they gave it five stars. The people who _didn’t_ actually watched the show with their brains turned on—like me and Keevonu did—and realized this was just the creator masturbating in front of his audience and asking everyone to join in. And, of course, they did.”

“Mmmmmmmmmmmmmm—I still wanna watch it.”

Cale grumbled again as he scrolled his way through the programs and stopped on some sort of fantasy TV series that had various creatures of different races depicted on the cover.

“Oh, here we go. _Cleaning Up the Kingdom’s Mess_.”

Stollar scrunched up his face. “That name sounds revolting. Also why is there so much brown on the cover?”

“Yeah, about that…”

___________________________________

“WINDS OF DESTRUCTION!” the character on TV shouted.

Cale and Stollar watched as a yellow-skinned ogre turned around and bent over. Seconds later, he farted so hard that he blasted three other characters clear across the forest they were standing in. Cale just looked at the monitor and chuckled while Stollar stammered and held out his hands.

“Why? How is a fart supposed to be that powerful?! Why is there so much gross content in this show?! It’s not even funny!”

“No, but I can’t help but take pleasure in the absurdity of the situation…oh good, we’re at the best part.”

As Stollar and Cale kept watching the show, a titan-sized humanoid creature showed up with fur all over his body, a long tail, and a canid muzzle. The giant furry beast walked over to the ogre and snarled before looking down at him.

“Huh…Winds of Destruction, eh?” the titan asked, leaning down towards the ogre and breathing heavily.

Stollar groaned with frustration as he rubbed his face and murmured. “Oh lemme guess: the ogre’s gonna insult the wolf creature’s bad breath. I noticed that shit too! Why do they keep doing that?! I realize it’s a fantasy and they probably didn’t even know what oral hygiene was back in that time period, but seriously. It’s like _everyone’s_ breath is rotten all the time!”

The duo kept watching the television show, observing as the ogre plugged his nose and said, “Yeah, and what’s your special power, fiend? Fecal Breath?”

“I fuckin’ called it,” Stollar murmured, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“NO!” the wolf creature said, before he snickered and turned around, lifting up his loincloth and showing off his filthy rump.

“Ewwwwwww! Do they—why?! WHY DO I NEED TO SEE HIS DIRTY ASS CRACK?!”

Cale couldn’t help but smugly look at Stollar with a smirk on his face. He knew exactly what was going to happen next after the wolf titan raised his loincloth.

“WAVE OF WASTE!” the titan shouted.

Stollar’s eyes widened. “Oh no.”

Without warning, the wolf started squirting gallons upon gallons of diarrhea against the ogre, washing the obese figure through the forest as he created a river with his waste.

“OHHHH NO!” Stollar said, covering his face with both hands.

Cale looked at Stollar as he started groaning and screaming into his hands, and the lion started laughing uncontrollably. Bits of nachos and saliva spewed from his mouth as he leaned over on the bed, trying not to fall off onto the floor. There was a point where thirty seconds had passed and Stollar curiously looked at the screen. The canid beast was still defecating.

“WHY THE _FUCK_ IS THIS HAPPENING?!”

Cale giggled a few times before he grinned cheekily. “You getting squeamish, Stollar?”

“FUCK IT!” The alien reached over, grabbed the remote, and immediately stopped the program. “DONE! DONE! _DONE_! I AM NOT WATCHING ANYMORE OF THAT REPULSIVE BULLSHIT!”

“Awww, c’mon now. The next episode was gonna involve the main characters hunting down a serial killer.”

“I don’t care! This show is disgusting—why the hell would anyone watch it?! The motherfuckin’ first fuckin’ episode has the main character violently shitting his pants and it got all over the floor; the next fuckin’ episode had all those goblins fuckin’ each other and it was all explicit and it was all _in your face_! THEY DEPICTED A RIMJOB IN FULL VIEW! And you know them goblins don’t bathe, so you know that ass was full of crusty-ass flaky shit! And then the next episode had that minotaur who sucked his own cock—and then he cut off someone else’s cock! The next episode had the ogre who wouldn’t stop shitting himself over and over _and over AGAIN_! AND THEN THIS FUCKIN’ SHIT! THERE WAS A GODDAMN GIANT WOLF SQUIRTING DIARRHEA ALL OVER THE FUCKING WOODS!”

Cale looked at Stollar with an emotionless expression and said, “So you’re saying you don’t like bodily fluids. Or smells. Or waste.”

“DOES ANYBODY?! God—why in god’s name do you watch this show?!”

“I’m secretly aroused by its content.”

Stollar punched Cale in the nose, almost as hard as he did earlier when Cale pushed him away after he hugged him.

“Do not fuck with me now, Cale! Or I swear to god, I’m gonna teleport that wolf into your spaceship and then force him to drown your ass with his ass!”

Cale stroked his mane for a bit. “Y’know, getting swallowed by a thick ass—”

“CALE!”

Cale held up his paws and smirked. “Okay. Settle down, Stollar.”

As Stollar began to calm down, Cale put his paws on his legs before setting aside his now empty basket full of nachos.

“Escapism.”

“Are you serious? You watch a show about medieval creatures farting at each other, shitting their pants, and fucking each other because of escapism?”

“Yes.” Cale blinked. “Well, not exactly. See, Drake and I, we spent a lot of free time just bonding together on the ship as opposed to exploring planets. And while we were browsing for something interesting to watch, we came across this show.”

Cale lifted the remote and opened up the menu. He sifted through various programs before coming across a show depicting a burly bear standing in a seemingly blank background with blotches of red all over it. The anthro’s head was a skull, however, that seemed to be frowning.

“Oh. That’s menacing. What show is this?” Stollar asked.

“ _Bear’s Guidance_. It’s, um…allegedly, it’s based on a true story. There was this secret group of mercenaries—all male, most of ‘em gay. Most of ‘em were…admittedly very attractive. Kinda had my body type. They all went across the galaxy, fighting off hordes of enemies, invading armies, horrific killers, the works. Went on for several seasons. And as you can see by the ratings, it was highly successful.”

“Oh! Sounds like a damn good show.”

“I hated it. Keevonu did too.”

Stollar smirked. “And here I thought you would’ve _looooooved_ a TV series about burly, homosexual anthros going around the galaxy, getting all dirty, getting all sweaty—”

“I’m not denying how attractive the cast is. But the show…mm. Um.” Cale rubbed his paws together for a moment before he took a deep breath. “It went for the realism factor. Which, of course, meant that anyone in the show could die. Including the eponymous bear who led the unit. It meant that sometimes the bad guys win. It meant that sometimes the bad guys get away with everything. And…it reached a point where the show wasn’t fun. It was just depressing for the sake of being ‘realistic’ and showing its audience that this is how life works.”

“I hate that shit,” Stollar said with disdain. “Used to be a fan of _The Spreading Virus_. You heard of—”

“Yes, I’ve fucking heard of _The Spreading Virus_. And its stupid-ass spin-off show _Breathe the Spreading Virus_ ,” Cale said, snarling.

“So you get what I’m saying then! Sure, yeah, it was innovative at first, and very compelling and everything! But then season two happened, and they introduced new characters and killed off some old ones. Then season three happened, and they introduced new characters and killed off old ones—some as early as the fourth episode! Then season four happens…then season five…season six…”

“How long has that show been airing?”

“It’s been fifty years now. Everyone from seasons one through _twenty_ have died. Still ongoing.”

Cale smacked a paw against his forehead. “And I’m assuming the spin-off show is still going.”

“Yup! Get this: _that_ series killed off damn near its entire original cast by the fourth season. It’s currently on season thirty.”

Stollar sighed with frustration and shook his head. “I mean, hell, when you put it like that…guess I can see your point. But why _Cleaning Up the Kingdom’s Mess_? That seems kinda…um, beneath you, I guess is the right phrase?”

“Because it was made by someone who actually gives a shit.”

Stollar looked at Cale and smirked.

“Shut it; you know what I mean. Shit like _Blaster Omega’s Kitty Show_ and _Bear’s Guidance_ —it feels like those only exist so they can make studios lots of money. People only know about ‘em because of how popular they are. Which is fine—making movies and TV shows is a business practice, I understand that. But I feel like…” Cale paused as he cycled through various television programs, many of which had critical acclaim. “I feel like people watching these shows don’t care about _anything_ except how popular it is and how ‘epic’ or ‘trendy’—god I hate that word—it is. And that’s a problem, because film studios and television and anime studios—they’re aware of all of this. So instead of creating art, they just pump out the next ‘big thing’ so it’ll make them richer. I feel like shows like _Blaster Omega’s Kitty Show_ and _The Spreading Virus_ were created by machines—there’s no art behind it anymore. There’s no heart or spirit to it.”

Cale dropped the remote controller and exhaled as he leaned backwards against the headboard. “It’s not just entertainment, Stollar. It’s everywhere. People just don’t seem to give a shit about their jobs. They clock in, do their jobs half-assed, then leave. Some employees in grocery stores don’t say hi to anyone; reporters on the news don’t give a damn about what they’re reporting, so long as it’s depressing and it’ll make its viewers scared to leave their house; I mean hell, you really think the government officials in Knochen City would’ve hired _Gobor Grizzer_ to be their Chief of Police if they were actually competent? They just looked at his file, saw he had military experience and said, ‘Okay, good enough. You’re hired!’ and just left it at that.”

Stollar scratched around his left ear. “How did a conversation about a fantasy show delve into a rant about society?”

“This isn’t a rant.” Cale shrugged. “It’s just what is. What I see is that everything is run by money and popularity and corruption, and all sorts of immoral bullshit. But then I saw _this_ show…and I was turned off by it at first—for obvious reasons—but it…it grew on me. This was a show made by a guy who had a vision. He didn’t care about the money or the fame—none of that. He just came up with an idea for a disgustingly absurd show, and he made it. And it’s not popular, and I doubt it makes much money, but I don’t think the creator cares. And this show _isn’t_ depressing—well sometimes, but not always—and it _isn’t_ trying so damn hard to force in blatant fanservice or trying to appeal to the biggest audience it wants. It’s just…it’s like watching someone paint on an easel. But they’re using feces instead of paint. It’s revolting…but the artist is genuinely trying—and they usually end up making something decent once they finish.”

“Oh…well now. That’s…that’s admirable, honestly.”

“It’s not just this show either. Look.” Cale picked up the remote controller and started scrolling through various television shows again, one of which depicted a strange-looking wolf in a trench coat walking down the street, grinning as blood dripped from his mouth.

“ _The Beauty of Demons_?”

“Yeah, this one’s really cool. It’s one of those supernatural series where every kind of monster or demon you can think of _actually_ exists, and this guy has to fight ‘em off.”

“That sounds like it would get repetitive.”

“You’d _think_ that, but no. Again, this show was made by some creator who wanted to do something for fun, something that would help him cope with how screwed up the universe is. It’s not popular; it’s not making a whole lotta money, but it was made by someone who just gives a shit about what he’s doing.”

Cale switched over to another program depicting two young felines who were standing beside each other holding paws and smiling. In the background, several demonic creatures were roaming the streets and the city seemed to be on fire.

“ _Toasty’s Revolution_?”

“It’s about some young adults who discover that their whole world has been infected with this plague, so they gotta band together to save existence itself. And then demons show up.”

“Demons?”

“Yeeeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaahhhh, this show gets _weird_.”

“But everything’s already on fire. It already looks like they failed.”

“I mean they kinda did,” Cale whispered, “but it’s complicated. Very, very, _very_ complicated. There’s lots of alternate universes and elaborate versions of Heaven and Hell and tons of interdimensional monsters, blah blah blah.”

“Why bother watching this show when the damn _cover_ spoils what inevitably happens?!”

“Because even if everything around you burns to the ground and turns to shit, you can still fight back and remain optimistic.”

Stollar relaxed himself as he looked at Cale and was quickly reminded of his current predicament. “…Oh.”

Cale set the remote down again and exhaled. “There’s a whole variety of shows I can list off, but I’d be here all day. Point I’m making is that everywhere I go, I’m blinded by ignorance and greed. It’s nice to know that I can sit back and just…just get lost in this fictional world. Sure, all these shows got problems— _Cleaning Up the Kingdom’s Mess_ especially, but—”

“You would rather sit down and watch a show about people constantly fucking each other and pissing or shitting their pants than watch a show like _Bear’s Guidance_ or _The Spreading Virus_ , where damn near everyone dies and the show wallows in misery.”

“Basically.”

“Well now. I can see what you’re getting at then. I don’t blame you. Sometimes it’s enjoyable to subject yourself to a piece of art that isn’t the same cookie-cutter piece of content you see every day. You like to eat parfait, not candy bars. And you hate the fact that the general audience would rather buy a candy bar simply because it’s more affordable and easier to find.”

Cale chuckled. “That’s the gist of it.”

Stollar took a long breath before he leaned backwards and smiled. “Okay. In that case…maybe we can watch a few more episodes of _Cleaning Up the Kingdom’s Mess_.”

“Hehe, all right then,” Cale said, as he switched back to the original program.

As Stollar and Cale began to watch the TV show, Stollar sniffled and sat up straight. “This show does get _better_ later on, right?”

“Oh yeah, definitely. Another thing I like about the creators of this, _Toasty’s Revolution_ , and _The Beauty of Demons_ is that they actually _listen_ to criticism of their shows.”

“Okay good. Because I don’t see the point in forcing all this disgusting content into this series. And I know damn well you’ve noticed.”

“I get the feeling the creator knows what he’s doing, but he either doesn’t care, or he’s trying to gross out the audience because he’s secretly an asshole.”

“Ah. …The bile-inducing material does diminish later on though, right?”

Cale paused for a very long time, prompting Stollar to turn and glare at him.

“Caaaaaaaale?”

“That information is classified.”

“Cale, you didn’t directly answer my question.”

“No, I did not.”

“Cale, answer me!”

“Oh look, I’m out of nachos.” Cale grunted as he hopped off his mattress. “Gotta go make some more.”

“CALE!”

__________________________________

Seven hours passed, and Cale and Stollar were still looking for new shows and movies to watch. Stollar exhaled as he scrolled through a series of films, while Cale, who had finished devouring his fourth basket full of nachos, looked at his cell phone and texted Rellis.

“Still no word from Rellis?”

The lion shook his head. “He said he’s still tracking Franz down. Gonna be a few more hours at least.”

Stollar groaned. “All right, so we’ve seen a good chunk of _Cleaning Up the Kingdom’s Mess_ , we’re halfway through _Toasty’s Revolution_ , we’ve seen chunks of _The Beauty of Demons_ , we saw that short film about that sociopathic protagonist, uh, _Tumor_ , saw _Guns in the Evening_ , which I enjoyed until it’s depressing ending, and we saw a giant malevolent demon murdering schoolchildren while dancing to techno. Because why the fuck not.”

“You know that was funny,” Cale replied.

Stollar sniffed as he started looking at the list of movies and came across the superhero collection.

“Oh, here we go! Didn’t know you were a fan of these kinds of films.”

“My enjoyment of them fluctuates. But eh, some of ‘em are actually very good and don’t feel like they were expelled from a factory.”

“All right then. Uhh, let’s watch _Fox Fighters_.”

“No. That movie tried to do the whole feminism thing. It’s failed _phenomenally_.”

“Oh. Well, how ‘bout _The Merciless Crew_?”

“No. Deep down, there’s a fun anti-hero movie there. The studio horribly botched it and now I hate it.”

“ _Red Furnace_?”

“Does not exist.”

“But it’s right—”

“That movie does _not_ exist,” Cale growled, baring his teeth.

“O-okay then…um, _Gray Siblings_?”

“Very good, but depressing.”

“ _The Takeovers: Taking Back Tero_?”

“Absolutely breathtaking. And then they killed two-thirds of the cast at the end. Still sore about that.”

“ _The Takeovers Strike Back_?”

“Negated everything about _Taking Back Tero_ thanks to time travel.”

“ _Seed_?”

“Incredibly fucking dreadful and was trying too hard to set up its own franchise. Somehow it made billions of dollars.”

Stollar checked Cale’s personal rating system and squinted when he saw how many stars he gave it. “Cale, you gave this five stars.”

“I said it was dreadful. I didn’t say I didn’t enjoy it.”

Stollar exhaled and moved to the next film. “ _Dr. Mirren_?”

“Did feminism _properly_.”

“ _Timber Wolf_?”

“Good movie, but overrated purely because ninety percent of the cast is human and not alien or anthro.”

“ _Bear’s Bridges_?”

“Overrated because ninety percent of the cast is openly gay or transsexual.”

“ _Protectors of the Universe_?”

“Has a sexy mouse in it, so I loved it.”

“ _Protectors of the Universe 2_?”

“Was somehow _better_ than the first one, although I’m in the minority there.”

“ _Protectors of the Universe 3_?”

“Didn’t see it because they fired the director and writer.”

“ _God of Wind_?”

“Made fart jokes bland.”

“ _God of Wind: The Putrid Abyss_?”

“Made fart jokes dark and gross.”

“ _God of Wind: Backwind_?”

“Made fart jokes stupid and colorful.”

Stollar groaned as he set down the remote and rubbed his face. “All right, let’s just take a break from all this.”

Cale grunted as he stretched outwards on the bed before popping his neck. He set his empty basket of nachos down on the nightstand before opening up his door and exhaling.

“C’mon, there’s a game we should play together.”

As Stollar followed the lion into the lunchroom, the alopid grumbled and blinked. “What, _Blades of the Past_? Oh yeah, Cale, I _so_ wanna play the eightieth entry in that franchise.”

Cale chuckled as he walked over to his fridge and opened it up. “Hey, the one where you play as a space pirate was fun and you know it.”

“Yeah. Then they made seven other games where you do the same thing. And then they went ahead and made a spin-off series where that pirate character—”

“Okay, okay, all right. And no, that’s not the game I’m talking about.”

Cale removed a large bottle from the fridge before shutting it. He set the bottle down on a metal table nearby before walking over to one of his cabinets and taking out two shot glasses. Stollar immediately connected the dots and moaned.

“I hate this game.”

“You serious? Relax, Stollar; this isn’t gonna end with us naked and fucking each other.”

“You _sure_ about that?”

“Positive. Sit down.”

Stollar sat down at one end of the table, observing Cale as he set both shot glasses down and opened up the bottle.

“You don’t got a problem with whiskey, right?”

“Are you serious? I could chug a whole bottle of bourbon and be fine the next morning.”

“Good,” Cale replied as he filled both shot glasses and sat down at the other end of the table. “So, do you wanna go first?”

Stollar watched as Cale slid the shot glass across the table towards him. He looked inside at the brown fluids before shrugging and inhaling sharply.

“Ehhhhh, you can go first.”

“All right. Erm…” Cale pressed two fingers against his forehead and rubbed it for a moment. “Okay, okay, easy one. I’ve never eaten foie gras before.”

“That’s _duck_ liver, right? Not cow liver?”

“Yeah, duck liver.”

Stollar exhaled. “Okay, good. I had chicken liver before; does that count?”

“Nah. So long as it wasn’t duck or goose, you’re good.”

Nodding, Stollar looked at the bottle in front of him before glaring back up at Cale. “I’ve never had sex with a male anthro before.”

Cale rolled his eyes before he took his shot glass and downed the whiskey inside of it. After swallowing, he said, “Okay, if we’re gonna do this, it’s best if we don’t pick something we _know_ the other person did. That’s like me saying, ‘I’ve never had black sclerae.’ _Obviously_ you’re gonna have to drink.”

“All right, all right. Heh, maybe this’ll make it more fun anyways.”

Exhaling, Cale poured himself another shot of whiskey before he spun his glass around a few times. “Hmm…I’ve never been to college.”

“Neither have I,” Stollar responded, smirking.

“Damn. Kay, your turn.”

“Um, I’ve never met the president of a country before.”

“The president or the commander-in-chief?”

“President.”

“Okay, good! I haven’t either. I’ve met more than one commander-in-chief though. Actually killed two of them.”

“Do I want to even know how that happened?”

Cale didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he said, “I’ve never disemboweled a _president_ and hung him by his own entrails before.”

Stollar grimaced as he looked at the lion’s demented grin. He coughed nervously as he looked down at his glass of whiskey.

“M’jus’ gonna take my turn now,” Stollar said quietly.

“You do that.”

“All right. Well, given that TV show you presented to me, I’ve never farted at a wedding before!”

Cale glared at Stollar for nearly fifteen seconds. And then he grabbed his shot glass and drank, prompting Stollar to laugh.

“Oh my god—you’re shitting me! Did you have it out against the bride or something?”

Cale huffed. “No, um. Drake’s niece was getting married, and she wanted to see her ‘uncle’s hot boyfriend,’ so I came along. But, um, I was running late, so I decided to stop at Joey’s Burritos and Stir Fry before heading to the wedding itself.”

“Why did you go to a burrito joint before a wedding?”

“Because their burritos are filling. Ten of ‘em could fill me up for an entire afternoon—which was what they did. And I didn’t wanna be that fat-ass who ate all the wedding cake.”

“No, you just ended up being that fat-ass who wouldn’t stop farting when the vows were being said.”

The lion self-consciously covered his face with his left paw. “Drake’s niece came up to me later and said she didn’t know I played the tuba.”

After Stollar finished laughing to himself, he glared at the lion and said, “Cale the Tuba Player. Didn’t know you were such an expert on wind instruments!”

Cale glared at the alopid as he kept giggling. Frowning, Cale leaned over on his stool and passed gas, filling the empty lunchroom with a deep-toned sputtering sound for a few seconds. What started off as laughing soon turned into coughing when Stollar caught wind of the flatulence.

“COME ON! You just ate all those nachos!”

Cale smirked. “You wanna keep playing, or do you wanna hear me practice my instrument some more?”

Stollar plugged his nose. “Keep playing. Damn that stinks—no wonder why you like _Cleaning Up the Kingdom’s Mess_!”

“Good. Now then…I’ve never had sex with a transgender.”

“Crap.” Stollar unplugged his nose and grabbed his shot glass, swallowing all of the whiskey in one gulp.

“Really now?”

“Oh yeah, absolutely. I mean, she identified herself as female, she already had surgery done, and so on and so forth. Wasn’t any different from having sex with someone who was born female.”

“Who was she?”

“Uhhh…damn…think her name was Debbie? We met at some café a while back; think she was from out of town, doing some research for an architectural project within her company. I told her the coffee in the café sucked. She introduced me to a bar instead.”

Stollar chuckled as he refilled his shot glass. “You know how it goes.”

The lion smiled “Right. Anyway, your turn again.”

“I’ve never spoken Croatian.”

Cale raised an eyebrow. “The fuck’s that?”

“Apt reply. Your turn.”

“Oh. All right, well…I’ve never been incarcerated.”

Growling, Stollar grabbed his shot glass and consumed his whiskey again before he slammed the glass down. “You’ve never been to prison?”

Cale shook his head. “I know. Surprising. I’m clearly built for it, aren’t I?”

“I-I didn’t mean it like that. Just, considering how old you are and all the shit we’ve been involved in, I’m kinda shocked.”

“I’ll admit I’ve been arrested before. And I spent a few nights in a county cell. But I was never officially incarcerated for anything. Never spent the night in a correctional facility.” 

“Lucky you.” Sighing, Stollar shrugged as he refilled his shot glass and tried to think of another statement. “I dunno, uh, I never killed a toddler before.”

Cale scoffed. “Flunked that one.” He drank from his shot glass, and Stollar gazed at the lion in disbelief.

“Tch…what, did the Strikers hire you to blow up a hospital?”

Cale glared at Stollar. “Is that what you think of me?”

“Well. Since we’re being open and honest here.”

“Nah. S’not how it happened. But I was in the Strikers at the time. Our division got orders to take out this bear dictator—a commander-in-chief, one of the two I ended up killing. We got word that he was coming home to visit his family for some reunion I believe. So we watched his villa for over twelve hours, ‘til we see a limousine coming along the road. Bulletproof windows, escorting jeeps—it was a standard convoy. So, naturally, we attacked it. My team subdued the jeeps. I took out the limousine. Wasn’t until _after_ I shot up the vehicle that I discovered the commander-in-chief wasn’t inside. His family was.”

“Oh…well. You didn’t know a cub would be in there.”

“It’s funny really. The cub didn’t die. I opened up the back door, found the cub had tried to hide beneath his mother’s body. Two of the bullets went through him. When I pulled him out to look at him, he was so wounded that he couldn’t even cry. He just lay in the back seat, wheezing, coughing up blood, all that shit. Prolly could’ve saved him. Prolly could’ve taken him to some hospital. But he was evidently in too much pain, and he wasn’t even old enough to understand why.”

Cale paused so he could refill his glass. Afterwards, he used two of his fingers to form a makeshift pistol, and he pretended to fire off a bullet.

“Out of everyone in my unit, I was the only one who didn’t react. I just said, ‘Eh. S’war. Shit happens.’ Then I moved on. One of my best buds puked all over himself. Two others got into a fight with me, thought I was a sociopath. Another guy…” Cale’s voice trailed off. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath, while Stollar looked away uncomfortably.

“It’s your turn,” Stollar said softly.

Cale wiped his nose. “Right. Well. I’ve never removed a tattoo before.”

“Oh, cool. I haven’t either. Been meaning to ask why you never got rid of your Cephalopodan Striker tattoo. Seems like everytime someone sees it, they either shit their pants or look at you with scorn.”

“Oh, just a reminder,” Cale said, before taking a long breath. “Just a very _hard_ reminder.”

“Reminder of what?”

“Shit I’ve done.”

“What ‘shit’ exactly?”

Cale changed the subject. “Your turn.”

“I’ve never…huh…” Stollar actually paused to think about his statement. Then he looked at Cale with a devious smile and said, “I’ve never been _docked_ before.”

Cale narrowed his eyes as he stared at his partner before murmuring, “I hate you,” and drinking from his glass. Stollar started giggling uncontrollably.

“Look, I knew you were into anilingus, but _come on_! How does docking even work?!”

“Do you _really_ want me to explain?”

“Honestly, yes. Could be the whiskey talking though.”

“Damn it—fine. Okay. So you find someone with a foreskin—a _thick_ foreskin. Usually works best with bears or boars. You stretch out the foreskin as much as possible, and then the other guy sticks their cock—”

“You can stop now,” Stollar said, suddenly looking sick.

“Yeah. You get the idea. It’s best to do this with a _clean_ foreskin. You try docking with a smegma-coated—”

“ _Stop_.”

Cale huffed as he pinched the bridge of his muzzle and groaned. “I lost a bet. I wanted to try something new. Did it once. Never again.”

“…Fucking _hell_ —now I’m imaging all those characters from _Cleaning Up the Kingdom’s Mess_ not wash—NO. I—NO. _NO_. God—your turn. Please take your turn now!”

“All right, fine. Look, this’ll be an easy one. I’ve never raped anyone.”

Stollar gazed at Cale with wide eyes. “What?”

“I’ve never raped anyone.”

Stollar didn’t drink his whiskey.

“There, see? Easy. At this point we could throw out outlandish—”

“Goddamn you, Cale Tomlik,” Stollar said, before drinking his whiskey.

Neither of them said anything for almost a full minute. Stollar couldn’t look Cale in the eyes, while Cale couldn’t stop staring at his partner. He didn’t feel enraged or betrayed, just flabbergasted that his partner was capable of raping someone. After the long silence passed, Stollar slowly poured himself another glass of whiskey and drank it anyway before sighing.

“You just _had_ to go there, didn’t you?” Stollar snapped.

“I wasn’t aware you…I-I-I didn’t think—”

“Why do you think I went to prison, Cale?”

“I don’t know. Robbery? Assault? Defacing public property? How the fuck was I supposed to know you raped anyone?”

“That doesn’t mean you _had_ to say that! I…” Stollar closed his eyes and let out a frustrated breath. “Sorry. I’m being hypocritical, aren’t I? I thought you never killed a toddler before; look how that turned out.”

“…Fuck it. Don’t worry about it; it’s not like—”

“No, no, I should explain. Like I said earlier: open and honest.”

Cale folded his arms and sniffed. “Okay then.”

“I was twenty. Think I was vacationing over on Tero, some city called Gladys Heights. Anyway. I was in a club, dancing, drinking cocktails…drinking _too many_ cocktails. Suddenly, this really nice fox in a red dress comes along. She was all tall and smelled amazing, and she had these wide hips that…eh. You get the idea. Anyway. We talk. We start dancing. She starts flirting with me…a lot. I was drunk; I know she smelled all that alcohol on my breath. She asks me to come home with her…I turn her down. She starts grabbing my ass, groping my crotch…and I shove her back and tell her to fuck off. But the bitch just wouldn’t take no for an answer. …It isn’t long ‘fore all those cocktails start messing with me, so I run to the back alley and puke my guts out.”

Stollar closed his eyes and shook his head. “Should’ve gone in the bathroom,” he whispered. “Maybe then, a camera would’ve seen her…maybe there would’ve been a witness…”

“She raped you.”

Stollar scoffed. “Wasn’t hard. I was already on the verge of passing out. Didn’t put up much of a fight.”

“You didn’t do anything about it afterwards?”

“Of course I did. I asked around. I called the cops, told them everything. Told my friends; told my family. I let everyone know that this cunt raped me, and she might do it again to someone else.”

“So what happened?”

Stollar sniffled before saying, “I was drunk, Cale. And I’m _male_. What do you _think_ happened?”

“…I see.”

“Fucked up thing is? They found the bitch. I pressed charges. I took her ass to court. But it turns out the bitch was richer than me. So she got a better lawyer. Didn’t matter that I told my side of the story. Didn’t matter that I broke down screaming that she needs to be punished. All they saw was some guy who went to a bar, admitted to being drunk, and then ‘had sex’ with someone. And since there were no cameras in the alley, and no witnesses, they declared her not guilty.”

“Hmph. So you tracked her down and raped her. And of course, _you_ were declared guilty.”

“Actually, no. I never saw her again—and neither did anyone else. So she gets away with everything, and I’m just ‘that guy who accused a female of rape.’ Um…I, um…I hated females, Cale. For a very long time. I was…just _sick_ of it all. All the feminism bullshit, the media constantly propping up females as goddamn messiahs…everything.”

Stollar exhaled. “Anyway. About a year or two later, I went to a club again, tried to just have fun, relax my mind. But then a fox came up to me wearing a red dress. It wasn’t the same one; she didn’t even have the same fur color. And she was drunk. But she did the same thing. She flirted with me. She asked me to come to her house that night. And she groped me.”

“So what happened?”

“I snapped. I took her to the back alley, started kissing her, and then I started choking her. And beating her. Before I knew it, I was pulling down my pants.”

Stollar paused for a long time again. He poured himself another shot of whiskey and drank before sniffing. “It wasn’t until after I finished that I looked down on the ground…and I saw myself. And it all came flooding back. So…I called the police. Told them everything. Got arrested. Went to court. Confessed that I raped this innocent anthro. Got seven years in prison.”

After Stollar finished explaining his story, he stared at his empty shot glass and felt tears running down his face. He blinked a few times as he wiped them away and looked back up.

“I couldn’t do it…I couldn’t be like her, Cale. I could’ve killed that fox I raped…could’ve hid the body.” Stollar shook his head. “I wasn’t gonna sink to the same level as that cunt who raped me. So I turned myself in. Told everyone straight up what I did. Didn’t make any excuse about my hatred of females or-or that society is shoving feminism in everyone’s faces. I raped an innocent person. Period. And I got punished for it.”

“Mm.” Cale tapped one of his claws on the table a few times before taking a long breath. “And then you started working at Schrader’s Space Station.”

“I was in prison for a while. Everything seemed so simple in there. But when I got out, everyone in my hometown treated me like a pariah. I tried to fix everything, but I can’t change how people are. So yeah. I went _back_ to prison—only now I work in one instead of being incarcerated in one.”

There was another long silence between the two individuals that went on for over a minute. It wasn’t broken until Stollar scoffed and poured himself more whiskey and wiped his face off.

“Shit…right, right, we’re-we’re playing a game…that’s right…”

“It’s okay, Stollar,” Cale said softly. “Most people _would_ have killed that anthro you raped. Least you took responsibility for it.”

“Tch! Right, yeah, I deserve a fuckin’ medal. …I know I’m not Gobor Grizzer. But the fact that I did it _once_ was too much. Shouldn’t…” Stollar scoffed. “Fuck it. No sense in mulling about it now…”

“No.”

Even though he knew it was against the rules, Stollar looked at Cale and started grinning to himself when he thought about his next turn.

“I never shat myself past the age of forty,” he said, before winking.

“You know what, Stollar, fuck you,” Cale said, before downing the whiskey in his glass. “You know damn well I was gonna have to drink.”

“I didn’t know you were over forty,” Stollar lied.

“Bullshit. I’m nearly sixty. I’m old enough to be a grandfather.”

“Course, we all know _that_ ain’t gonna happen.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.” Cale dumped more whiskey into his glass before holding it between two fingers. “I’ve never prayed before.”

Stollar raised an eyebrow, but grabbed his glass and consumed the brown fluids inside of it before asking, “Are you serious?”

“That’s the point of the game, isn’t it?”

“Oh…well…that’s…that’s melancholic, if I’m being blunt.”

Cale set his glass down. “Why do you think that?”

“I kind of thought that was one of the reasons why you still keep going.”

Cale growled. “I’ve heard you say ‘goddamn’ multiple times. Isn’t that kind of shit blasphemous?”

“I don’t believe in ‘the’ God. Or Jehovah. Whatever you wanna call Him.”

Now Cale looked bewildered. “You just drank though.”

“Because you said you’ve never prayed before. You didn’t say you’ve never prayed _to God_ before.”

“Oh.”

“At some point people need to realize that not _everyone_ is Christian or a Jehovah’s Witness. And to stop trying to convert those who aren’t.”

“We’re kinda veering into that territory right now,” Cale murmured.

“No we’re not! You can’t join my religion anyway; it’s exclusive. Anthros wouldn’t understand our beliefs anyway.”

“Is your god a giant floundering fish that demands to be fed severed baby penises?”

“WHY WOULD YOU THINK THAT?!”

Cale chuckled. “Hey. I saw documentaries. I read some history books. You’d be surprised what humanity did when ancient civilizations were roaming the world.”

Stollar groaned with indignation. “Okay, not the point!”

“Then what is your point, Stollar?”

“I’m just curious, that’s all. If you don’t wanna be religious, you don’t gotta be. It’s just…there’s so _many_ religions out there; I’m a little surprised you didn’t join one by now, even by mistake.”

Shrugging, Cale set his arms down and coughed. “Well. You kinda said why I’m not religious. There’s so many out there. And there’s so many rules out there you gotta ‘obey’ if you wanna get into Heaven. Some religions say you should honor your mother and father. Okay…well, what if your mother is an abusive cunt? What if your father commits incestuous rape on a weekly basis? Do you still honor them? Some religions punish homosexuality with death. Okay…well, isn’t it a sin to harm others, to murder others? You’re telling me it’s okay to murder a homosexual, even if they’ve done absolutely _nothing_ wrong, and you won’t burn in Hell for it? Some religions are run by a god who demands bloody sacrifices. Okay…well, that brings up the whole murder issue again. Some religions permit cannibalism. Okay…well, does that mean if you’re poor and you’re hungry and you’re starving to death, you should eat your parents’ flesh?”

“Cale—”

“Buuuuuuut then you’re breaking the whole honor your mother and father rule. Also, you’re killing someone by eating them, so you’re committing _that_ sin too.” Cale sniffled. “There’s a religion whose god is a fish beast. And if you eat fish, that’s a sin punishable by eternal damnation.” The feline stammered. “I’m a cat, Stollar! I love fish! It’s not the best meat in the world, but I’ll be damned if I stop eating grilled salmon fillets!”

Stollar covered his eyes. “Cale…”

“What about the gods, huh? If you worship one god, do you go to hell for not worshipping the other gods from other religions? Just _how_ vengeful are the gods, Stollar? Just what are they capable of doing if you piss ‘em off? Also, why is it one-sided? Why are all the demons evil and the angels good? Real life ain’t black and white; why does Heaven and Hell—”

“I GET IT!” Stollar roared, before slamming his fist on the table so hard the bottle tipped over.

Both creatures stared at each other for a while before Cale flared his nostrils and set the bottle upright.

“You asked,” he murmured.

“Yeah, I know. And now I’m asking you to shut the fuck up.”

“Fine.”

As the duo sat still, Cale grabbed his shot glass and consumed the whiskey. He held the glass and twirled it around, looking inside the empty container before sniffing.

“I envy you. A lot. At least you know what’s coming for you…at least you know what happens in the afterlife. I _want_ to believe that there’s something afterwards, but…hmph.”

“You never struck me as a person scared of death.”

“I’m not. I’m, uh…I’m scared of non-existence.”

Stollar blinked. “What?”

“I don’t have anyone close to me but you. And I know Keevonu still remembers me, but that ship has sailed. So I have…two people who personally know me. Tops. When I die, you two will remember me. But what about when you two die? No one will remember who I am…was, rather. And if there’s no one who remembers who I was, or anything about my existence…it’ll be like I was never born. Like I was just waste that was discarded without a second thought. And that…”

Cale stopped talking for a while and listened to the ship’s engines rumbling again. He looked at his partner and sniffled as he rubbed his nose, looking teary-eyed.

“What happens when a person dies, Stollar? Where does a soul like mine go to? I don’t believe in anything…so…does that mean there is no afterlife? No Heaven, no Hell, just…nothingness? I…I don’t want that, Stollar. I want to believe there’s something after all of this, but if I believe in nothing…do I receive nothing in return?”

“There’s something for you, Cale. There’s something for all of us.”

“How do you know that?”

“I just do.”

“Then what’ll happen to me after I die? What’s waiting for me after the end?”

“Something. I can’t say exactly what it is. But we’re not so different, Cale. We’re both fuck-ups. We both did something we regret and got punished for it. And what we’ve done has indirectly gotten innocent people killed. Hell, one of those officers I killed in Gobor’s tower had kids. I didn’t have to kill him; he was unarmed. But I did. Haven’t been torn up about it. …We sure as shit aren’t saints, and we’re not going to Heaven.”

Stollar spun his glass around a few times before his eyes watered. “I honestly don’t know where I’m going either, Cale. But…maybe that’s a good thing. We got our own list of sins, but they’re roughly the same. So maybe…maybe we’ll both go to the same place, Cale. Maybe eternal damnation is waiting for us. Maybe nothingness is waiting for us. Least we’ll have each other.”

Cale scoffed after hearing Stollar’s words and seeing the alien smile. He shook his head slowly before chuckling.

“Guess that’ll have to do…”

The lion was about to pour himself some more whiskey when he felt a sudden burst of pain within his body. He inhaled sharply and set the bottle down before grunting and standing up.

“Shit, you all right?”

Cale nodded as he started swaying a bit. “Yeah…yeah. S’a whiskey…heh. Think it’s starting to hit now.”

Stollar got out of his seat too and walked over to the lion, holding him up with his hands. “I gotcha big guy.”

Cale looked down at the alopid and snorted again. Both of them slowly started to walk towards Cale’s bedroom again, and the lion grunted as he got back on the mattress and lied down, taking a huge breath.

“I’m fine, buddy…s’just the whiskey, that’s all.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah…I’m sure.” Cale yawned noisily before he dug into his pocket and took out his cell phone. “Wake me up if Rellis leaves a message.”

“Will do.”

Cale blinked a few times before he relaxed himself and began to go to sleep, while Stollar turned on the wall monitor and went back to watching television programs.

____________________________

Stollar kept the volume low enough to prevent Cale from waking up, but high enough so he could still hear it. He was watching an episode of _Toasty’s Revolution_ , which was at the end of season four. The city the two protagonists were in was on fire, and strange interdimensional monsters were rising from the ground or traversing through portals. The first protagonist, a young cougar, turned and faced the second protagonist, a bespectacled tabby cat.

“This is a record, right? It has to be,” said the cougar.

“Record for what?” the tabby asked.

“Most amount of apocalypses we’ve somehow managed to survive.”

“Yeeeeeeeaaaaaaaah…guess it is! Although, um…I mean, you do see—”

“No, I see what’s happening.” The cougar shrugged. “Eh. Nothing new. We’ve dealt with this four times before. What’s one more?”

“Heh…right, right…so what now?”

“We finish this,” the cougar said, before holding out a paw. “Together.”

The tabby cat looked down at the cougar’s paw before looking up at her tender smile. She smiled back at her and grabbed her paw.

“Together,” the tabby responded.

Stollar watched as the episode ended on the cliffhanger and smiled. Then he looked over at Cale, who was still snorting gently in his sleep with his right paw sitting on the bed. The alopid slowly reached over and opened it up so he could grab it. As Stollar held the lion’s paw, he grunted and felt pressure on his hand.

He looked back down and saw that Cale was squeezing his hand too.


	15. The Mercenaries

Both Stollar and Cale were sleeping on the same bed, snorting and occasionally rolling around on the mattress. Stollar grunted a few times in his sleep before he slowly opened his eyes, having forgotten that he left the monitor on. He turned over and saw something flashing over near Cale’s nightstand, and the alopid’s eyes dilated. Stollar immediately hopped off the bed and walked over to the nightstand, wiping some of the drool from his mouth. He picked up the lion’s cell phone and noticed he received a few messages from Rellis.

“Hey. Hey, Cale. Seems like Rellis came through for us!” Stollar said.

But Cale was still sleeping quietly, snorting as his big stomach rose and fell. The alien frowned before he reached over and shook the lion’s body, causing Cale to sniffle in his sleep. He slowly opened his eyes and glared at Stollar.

“What?” he growled.

“Rellis sent us a message.”

Cale hopped out of bed immediately, suddenly wide awake. “Shit, really?”

Taking the phone from Stollar, Cale examined the messages on his phone before rubbing his chin and nodding.

“Son of a bitch…yeah, it’s all here. Apparently he’s got the coordinates to the facility.”

“You serious? Rellis got Franz to give up the _specific_ coordinates?”

“‘You’re welcome, kitty. Bourbon and cheese made this tortoise very chatty.’ S’a message he left me, see? Coordinates are right here.” Cale showed Stollar the message. Stollar looked at the message and squinted.

“That’s a penis.”

Cale looked at the message again and noticed Rellis attached an image of his erect phallus while he poured bourbon onto it. Cale frowned and quickly deleted the photo before bringing up the message showing the coordinates. “Okay, _this_ is the message. He even said he found out what country the facility’s in, somewhere over in Markilia.”

Stollar squinted again as he looked at the message on the phone and analyzed the coordinates. “Damn. Well then, guess he pulled through for us. All right, gimme time to input the coordinates and I should have a definitive location.”

“Good. Shouldn’t be a problem.”

_________________________________________

“This is a problem,” Stollar said, rubbing his hands against his face.

Exhaling, Cale walked over to the table in the lunchroom and saw Stollar sitting on a stool, with a high-tech laptop resting on the metal table in front of him. He stood over the short alopid and stared at the laptop’s screen, examining the location that popped up via satellite coverage.

“Okay. S’a big building with smaller buildings beside of it. Why is that an issue?”

“Because this building in question is located in the middle of a rainforest. Several miles away from even a backwater town or village. We bungle this operation, we’re fucked.”

Cale shrugged. “We got ourselves locked inside a police station and came out fine.”

“Both of us got our asses kicked. I lost half a dozen teeth. You got anally raped. Also, yeah, we kinda-sorta failed to stop thousands of people from getting killed. But yeah, we did just fine.”

Cale pinched the bridge of his muzzle. “See. When you put it like _that_ …”

“Cale, I know the whole ‘let’s wing it’ thing has been working so far, to some extent, but we can’t do this again. We gotta come up with a plan to bag Kolson _and_ ensure that we secure or destroy that cache of pathogen he’s got. Did Rellis tell you when the gas is being shipped out?”

“Two, three days tops. Apparently someone within Kolson’s group still sends Franz messages about how everyone’s doing. Someone told Franz, ‘be glad once this gas shit is gone,’ or something of that nature.”

“Okay, then we’d better head to Markilia as soon as we figure something out.”

“Zoom out. I wanna see the entire area around the base.”

Stollar did as he was told and minimized the screen so it would show most of the facility’s surroundings. Cale plotted in his mind briefly, taking note of the long stretches of runways and some of the dirt paths leading to and from the building.

“Runways. They got planes or helicopters, probably both. Gonna have to disable those first. That runway right there,” Cale said, pointing to a wide-open, flat piece of land, “is probably suited for spaceships.”

“So whatcha thinking? Stealth and sabotage?”

Cale rubbed his chin and nodded. “Follow by a full-on assault. If the pathogen’s there, it’ll be heavily guarded.”

“If they’re in the process of moving the pathogen as soon as we get there, a full-on assault will spook ‘em, cause ‘em to take off immediately. …We could just bomb the facility. We won’t get Kolson, but at least—”

“Negative. We still have no idea where the Baron is. Dr. Oblingor won’t be talking. I doubt Gobor is gonna talk to me after what I did to him. Milz might be dead for all we know, considering how fast they got to Gaines. We need Kolson alive.”

Stollar groaned and rubbed his face again. “So, like I said earlier, this is a problem.”

Cale backed away from the laptop and started to pace back and forth, running a paw through his fluffy mane. “Can’t do an assault, not just the two of us. Satellite imagery only shows us the basic facility, not the specific ground forces. They could have their own private army, patrol units in the jungle…” The lion let out a big breath and shook his head. “Fuck.”

“Maybe, uh, we should contact Rellis again?”

“Negative. We ask him to help us again, he’ll try to force us to get more weapons for him. We’re not going to dismantle one cartel organization just to fuel the armada of another.”

“So how we doin’ this, Cale? You’re just one lion; I’m just an alopid, one who isn’t fully experienced with weapons. They could have fifty goons down there and we wouldn’t even know!”

Cale was about to respond when he grunted and curled his fingers. He checked to make sure his right arm was still functioning properly before he sniffed and looked at his left shoulder. The lion blinked a few times as he observed the infamous tattoo still etched into his flesh. Then he growled as he slapped himself against his forehead.

“Stupid—of _course_. Can’t believe I didn’t think of that earlier.”

“Didn’t think of wh…where you goin’?” Stollar asked as Cale headed for his bedroom.

“I’ll be back; gimme a second.”

Stollar watched as Cale disappeared into his bedroom for a moment. When he came back outside, his FCD was strapped to his arm, and he was already punching in someone’s number. After he finished, he put the device up to his mouth and listened to faint static buzzing in his ears.

“Go ahead,” said a muted, garbled voice.

“Tomlik, Cale. 785-11-3949. Patch me through to Agent Kullwin.”

“Understood.”

The device emitted more static for a few seconds as Stollar began to frown.

“Why you callin’ Baross? You know we can’t—”

“Quiet. I know what I’m doing,” Cale barked.

Stollar exhaled and rolled his eyes as Cale leaned against the wall and blinked a few times. Afterwards, the static stopped and the connection cleared up.

“Agent Kullwin,” responded the Gila monster.

“Yeah, it’s Cale.”

“I know that. Why are you calling?”

“Is this call being recorded?”

“…The fact that you _immediately_ asked indicates it probably should be.”

“We got a bead on Arcornoc’s location and the shipment of pathogen. He’s somewhere in Markilia.”

“So go get him.”

“Can’t. He’s holed up in a facility, possibly a factory or warehouse. From what Stollar and I gathered, it’s in the middle of a rainforest. Seems like they have their own runways as well.”

“May I ask how you acquired this Intel?”

Cale paused. “I didn’t torture and/or kill anyone, if that’s what you’re implying.”

“The fact that you _immediately_ jumped to that suggestion indicates whatever you did probably isn’t legal.”

“Doesn’t matter how I got it,” Cale snarled, his voice rising. “We’ve uncovered a breakthrough with the cartel, and I need your help.”

“The IGPA can’t be officially involved in your missions. You know that.”

“I know. I also know that the IGPA has no involvement with private military contractors.”

There was a brief pause, and Stollar and Cale listened to the ship’s engines rumbling gently through space. Baross exhaled over the call, and Cale rubbed his forehead.

“What are you insinuating?”

Cale shrugged. “Nothing. The IGPA is a clean and clear-cut law enforcement agency. That’s why when I was with the Cephalopodan Strikers, they contacted my unit and used us for six different missions that were never officially recorded into any databases.”

“You’re treading on thin ice, Cale.”

The lion shrugged again. “I’m merely stating facts. The IGPA has no record of any involvement with the Strikers. So I’m sure they have no involvement with any private military contractors located in Markilia.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Mm.” Cale sniffed. “Unfortunately, I’ve no idea where my old unit is. Most of ‘em are probably dead or part of another unit. And I doubt Stollar knows of any mercenaries in Markilia.”

“I do not,” Stollar said, loud enough for Baross to hear.

“Right. So. I don’t know of any mercenaries. And Stollar doesn’t either. And I do not know of any allies in Markilia who can assist us on short notice.”

Cale couldn’t help but smirk when he heard Baross swear over the call. He could hear the reptile pressing various keys on a keyboard and huffing.

“How many mercs you need?”

“Small unit. Five or seven should do. Can’t be too large; the enemy will detect us a lot more easily.”

“Okay. Well, I’m seeing plenty of private military contractors in the country. You have a preference?”

“Whichever one is closest to the rainforest. And whichever one is known for putting their mission above all else.”

Stollar frowned. “Cale, what about civ—”

“Kolson’s not dumb enough to have civilians in a place like that. This won’t be like Grizzer again; we’ll be in the middle of nowhere.”

Baross exhaled over the device. “All right. The Markilia Defense Services got a facility set up not far from the capital.”

“Okay, fine. Contact one of the squadron’s there, let ‘em know you’ll be needing their services immediately. I don’t care what you have to say to them; just get ‘em to agree with this mission. I’m heading over there now.”

“Duly noted.”

Cale ended the call and huffed. “Good. So now we got more men on our side.”

“We still don’t exactly have a plan. Instead of two bounty hunters twiddling their thumbs, it’s gonna be seven or nine.”

“We’re gonna meet up with this unit, head to the location, scan the perimeter, and then figure out a means of attacking from there. We’ll take it slow, all right? Should be good enough.”

Stollar exhaled and shrugged. “Hey. Suppose it’s better than the last three plans we came up with. Guess we’ll just have to see how this all plays out.”

___________________________________

The duo landed on the outskirts of the capital, far away from most of the local civilization. Not far from the landing site was a small building that looked like a security booth built just outside of a wired fence. Cale and Stollar left the spaceship and began to walk around in the humid area, the heat blasting them the moment they got outside. Even though the sun wasn’t shining, the air was thick; Cale and Stollar could feel the moisture around their bodies. Both of them walked around wearing camouflage this time; Cale sported long pants and an open cargo vest that were brownish-green and had a tree bark pattern on them, while Stollar only wore pants like always, already disliking the heated country. They left damp footprints in the warm, soft soil; both of them occasionally stepped in mud and got the wet earth around their toes. Cale looked around the area, checking to see if anyone else was spying on them or trying to set up some kind of ambush. But all the lion saw were a few short buildings that sold souvenirs and other trinkets for tourists to buy. The only imposing landmark in the area was the five-story building that had the logo “MDS” on the front of it, with two soldiers walking around the perimeter of the building.

“Oh…that’s lovely,” Stollar said.

“What is?”

The alopid let his nostrils expand. “S’like a mixture of musk and mangoes. Rather pleasant compared to all that smog back in Knochen City.”

“Last time I was here, all I smelled was excrement and offal.”

“You have to ruin _everything_ for me, don’t you?”

“Affirmative.”

Stollar snarled with frustration and shook his head. The two of them continued to walk forward, where they spotted a chubby Saint Bernard and white tiger leaning against one of the security booths. Both of them saw Cale and Stollar and walked over to them immediately to greet them.

“You Cale Tomlik?” the tiger asked.

Cale nodded, while the white tiger growled.

“Hmm. Good enough. I’m Carlos, this is Wyatt,” he said, his voice monotone.

“Hello!” the Saint Bernard said, smiling and waving at the duo.

Cale and Stollar stared at the tiger and canine. Both mercenaries were wearing the same kind of camouflage, albeit Carlos and Wyatt were wearing shirts with sleeves on them, not sleeveless vests like the one Cale wore. Cale sized up Carlos for a moment, taking note of how fat and muscular he was, while Stollar stared at Wyatt while rubbing his chin, and the dog scratched around his muzzle. Carlos looked over at Stollar—who was over a foot shorter than him—and crouched down, snorting in his face.

“You I don’t need. You’ll slow us down.”

Stollar immediately recoiled and rubbed his nose, while Wyatt had to stifle laughter.

“Oooooooookay,” Stollar said, wrinkling his nose. “Right, right, well. I’m Stollar, Cale’s partner. Where he goes, I go.”

“So you’re willing to travel inside of a lindworm’s anus if your partner did it?”

Stollar paused. “You know, you people do not need to _always_ jump to the most ludicrous or disgusting conclusions. I mean seriously.”

Carlos growled and walked over in front of Cale instead. “You trust this alopid?”

“Yes. You trust this dog?”

“Yes.”

“Then we’ve nothing else to talk about.”

The tiger blinked and his whiskers moved a bit. “Guess not. Follow me then.”

Carlos turned around and began to walk away from the trio. Cale, Stollar, and Wyatt followed the tiger slowly, with Stollar nudging Cale in his side and scowling.

“Tell me you smelled that,” Stollar said with disgust.

“Oh no, trust me; I smelled it,” Cale agreed.

“You telling me that tiger’s breath didn’t bother you?”

“When you’ve spent over a year suffering from halitosis, you aren’t bothered by anyone else’s breath.”

Wyatt chuckled as he smirked at the duo. “Hey, I’m used to it. And the way I see it, I’m lucky I got Carlos for a partner. All he’s gotta do is open his mouth and the enemy will pass out.”

“I have ears,” Carlos said, his voice filled with indignation.

“We know, Carlos. And unfortunately, we have noses!” Wyatt jabbed back at him.

Carlos didn’t say anything and continued to walk forward, grumbling to himself as he opened up a door within the wired fence and walked outside the perimeter of the capital. Sitting just outside the fence was a jeep that had camouflage colors on it and was smothered in mud. Just as Cale and Stollar headed for the driver and passenger’s seats, Carlos grunted and jerked his right thumb backwards. The duo stopped, and both of them got into the backseat of the vehicle instead. Once they were all inside, Carlos started the ignition and began to drive forward. He held the steering wheel with one paw and used the other to wipe his nose.

“Client said no survivors,” Carlos abruptly mentioned.

“Wait, what?” Stollar inquired.

“The IGPA agent who contacted me. Said extract the target unharmed. Leave no other witnesses.”

“What about the pathogen shipment?”

“Collect or destroy. He doesn’t care which.”

“I’m not exactly keen on murdering innocent witnesses.”

“Didn’t ask. Telling you what’s gonna happen.”

_Asshole_ , Stollar said inwardly.

The Saint Bernard sitting in the passenger seat glared over at Carlos and cleared his throat. “You know, Carlos, if we do run into civilians—”

“Wasn’t asking you either.”

Cale shrugged. “Makes sense. This is all off-record. We leave any witnesses besides Arcornoc, they could damage the IGPA’s reputation.”

“Exactly. You see anyone who isn’t that target, eliminate them,” Carlos stated.

Wyatt exhaled and curled his fingers a few times. “Yeah. All right, boss.”

Stollar stayed silent. He still wasn’t okay with the whole operation, but he knew he was outnumbered three to one. So he just folded his arms and sniffed to himself. The four creatures sat in the jeep in silence, listening to the vehicle’s engine rumbling and the tires tearing through the soft earth. Cale looked outside the window and murmured, examining the various exotic plants sprouting from the ground. Unlike Demyl swamp, the vegetation in Markilia was far more inviting. The grass was full and green, several trees were thick with leaves and growing various fruits that were so ripe that anyone could eat them straight from the branches. Cale noticed some tree stumps around the rainforest; evidently there were some loggers who used the forest as a means for gathering wood, but they didn’t see any giant machines tearing down the woods. The lion looked up into the sky and spotted a few bat-like creatures that were gliding through the air. Cale couldn’t help but squint as he looked up at the creatures, surprised that some of them were lurking about in the middle of the day.

“I don’t remember seeing those bats last time I was here,” Cale murmured.

“Oh, the chirops?” Wyatt asked. “Yeah, those things. Welp, last I heard, they got driven out of their home country and migrated here. Which is fine by me; we got one of ‘em to help us with this mission.”

“You recruited a giant _bat_?” Stollar asked.

“Oh yeah, he’s awesome! Real fuzzy ball of fun he is. Got an annoying singing voice though.”

“You seriously expect me to believe—”

_____________________________________________

“—these sons of bitches actually recruited a giant _bat_ ,” Stollar said, as he and Cale stared at a massive blue chirop.

The crew had arrived at the campsite the mercenaries had set up. While Carlos and the others were examining their equipment and weapons, Stollar and Cale were gazing at the giant bat-like mammal in front of them. He looked like a giant fruit bat, right down to having a more canid-like muzzle and giant brown eyes with tiny pupils. But his entire body was covered in blue fur, as opposed to the usual brown, gray, or tan fur one would find on a regular bat. Cale also noticed that his eyes were slightly discolored, and two fangs hung out of his mouth even when it was closed. The colossal nine-foot-tall chirop looked down at the lion and alopid, smirking.

“Aren’t you bats supposed to be asleep right now?” Cale asked.

“Aren’t you lions supposed to be in cages? And not walking on two legs? And, y’know, not talking?”

Cale narrowed his eyes at the chirop, while Stollar exhaled. “Right. I see where this is going. I’m Stollar, this is my partner Cale.”

“Styxxaccer Saxxmaxinmax.”

Cale and Stollar blinked. The chirop frowned.

“Styx.”

“Oh that’s much easier,” Stollar said, not even trying to hide how ridiculously long his name was.

“So them mercs over there told me I get to fuck some shit up.” Styx grinned widely, revealing a large assortment of jagged teeth. “We fuckin’ shit up?”

“Later. We’re still in the planning stages right now.”

Styx huffed. “Fiiiiiine. I’ll just wait here for now.”

“We’ll let you know when we need you.”

“Kay.”

The chirop suddenly flopped backwards and landed on the ground with a huge thud, splaying his wings and breathing heavily as he looked up at the sky and curled his bony toes. Cale raised an eyebrow in confusion while Stollar just shrugged. The duo left the massive blue winged mammal to himself and walked over to the campsite. It wasn’t large, mostly so they could avoid being spotted by enemy patrols. The setup mostly consisted of various portable electronic devices powered either by plasma or battery energy, since there was no viable electrical sources nearby. Underneath the black tent were a series of tables all the equipment was stored on, some heavy waterproof and bulletproof green suitcases were beneath the desks, and in the corner were an assortment of gourmet MREs. Two of the mercenaries were patrolling the perimeter, while Wyatt, Carlos, and the final mercenary were inside of the tent looking at a plasma-powered monitor.

“So what we got so far?” Cale asked.

The hare sitting in front of the portable computer brought up a series of satellite images of the nearby facility. “Seems like those coordinates you gave us panned out. There’s a warehouse structure here,” he said, pointing at a giant cube-like building, “and it seems like these four points right here are guard stations or hangers. I can see three different runways, one of which is customized for spaceships.”

“Anything else?”

“Wouldn’t rule out guard towers. Prolly have their own SAM sites as well.”

Cale sucked on his teeth and snarled. “Too risky. We gotta send someone inside so they can get a better grasp of their defenses.”

“WHICH IS WHY I’M HERE!” Styx abruptly shouted.

Cale turned around and noticed that the giant bat snuck into the tent and was crouching down with his wings folded. The smirking beast looked at Carlos and Cale, the two felines still plotting out their attacks.

“You can get into the base undetected?” Cale asked.

“Negative,” Carlos responded. “Styx and many of the other chirops here are special. You probably didn’t notice, but many of ‘em have cybernetic implants.”

Styx giggled. “Check this out!”

Styx closed his eyes and grunted for a moment, shortly before everyone heard faint whirring. When the chirop opened his eyes back up, they were dark orange, with yellow pupils. Styx closed his eyes and grunted again, and suddenly his eyes were completely black and void of pupils.

“Pretty cool, eh?”

Cale nodded. “My left eye can support live recordings. I’m assuming your eyes can do the same.”

“Bingo. All I gotta do is swoop on down and we’re golden!”

The lion was about to say something else when he swallowed and felt a sharp pain in his midriff. Carlos flicked his eyes at Cale, but kept his mouth shut. Meanwhile, Stollar looked up at the bat and approached him, frowning.

“How exactly are you going to _sneak_ into the facility? Kinda hard to miss you, especially during the day.”

“He doesn’t need to sneak in,” Carlos pointed out. “Lotta locals in Markilia use chirops to help them with their jobs. Why spend money buying a pallet jack when you can just get a chirop to haul your cargo for you?”

“Sounds like slavery.”

“Pssh! Sounds like a free meal to me! Locals always pay us with a plethora of fruits and meats. They got nothing to offer us, we won’t help ‘em,” Styx stated.

“What happens if the locals don’t pay you after you help them?”

“Locals got meat on their bones, don’t they?”

Stollar grimaced, while Cale inhaled sharply as he felt another sudden pain in his abdomen and chest. He quickly exited the tent and walked away from the campsite. Carlos narrowed his eyes for a moment and chased after the lion, while Wyatt, Stollar, and the hare stayed in the tent alongside Styx.

“The facility’s northeast. Got it, Styx? Just keep flying in that direction and you should see it. I doubt an area this wide should be hard to miss,” Wyatt said.

“Do I get to fuck shit up?”

“No,” Wyatt said flatly.

“Aww,” murmured Styx, ears drooping.

“This is purely reconnaissance. You collect data for us, and we’ll plan out our attack from there. Try not to make a scene either; work for the guards, don’t ask questions, but listen in on some of the enemies’ conversations. Understood?”

“Gotcha!”

Wyatt walked over to Styx and stuck his fingers into his eye sockets. The chirop winced as the Saint Bernard pressed down, and both eyes beeped. Immediately afterwards, one of the monitors turned on, and the hare could see a perfect image of Wyatt standing directly in front of him. Out the corner of his eye, Styx could see himself on the computer monitor. He giggled as he lifted his right wing, and the monitor showed him performing the same gesture.

“Nice. S’like an electronic mirror!”

Wyatt didn’t say anything. He dug into his vest and took out a small earpiece, which he placed inside Styx’s left ear and switched on.

“You’re good to go. We’ll be here monitoring you the entire time. Anything seems off, either let us know or fly outta there.”

“Do I get to fuck shit up _later_?”

Wyatt exhaled. “Why do—yes. You can fuck shit up later.”

“YES! This is gonna be fun!”

The mercenaries and Stollar watched as Styx walked outside the tent, spread his wings, and began to flap them and ascend. Stollar scratched his muzzle and asked, “Why does he act like he’s thirteen?”

“He is.”

“Are you serious? Did we just recruit a teenager to help us storm a criminal organization’s fortified base?!”

“I think chirop years are different from ours.”

“That doesn’t make it okay!

“You sure? Lookit how happy he was.”

“We can’t—” Stollar exhaled and waved his hand. “ _Fuck it_. I should be used to this level of audacity by now.”

While Styx was busy flying over to the facility, Carlos followed Cale’s footsteps he left in the soil. He stepped on the wet grass and patches of mud before he heard the heavyset lion wheezing and gasping as he leaned against a tree. Cale wiped some sweat off his forehead and stuffed two pills into his mouth before he swallowed them with an audible gulp. Exhaling, Cale opened one of his vest’s pockets and removed his bottle containing the potion he received from Dr. Goode. After taking another huge breath, Cale downed a third of the bottle’s contents. When he finished, the lion closed his eyes and let out a long, calming breath. The pain in his chest was still present, but he knew it would subside in due time. Cale felt a warm presence behind him and didn’t bother turning around after smelling Carlos’ breath and scent.

“Ain’t too good at stealth, are you?”

Carlos ignored him. “What are those pills for?”

Cale finally turned around as he looked at the tiger, smirking. “Really should shower more, y’know? We anthros give off our scent with ease, ‘specially in a place like this.”

“Don’t have time to shower. Don’t have time to brush my teeth. Don’t have time to change my clothes unless the mission calls for it. What are those pills for?”

“Hmph. You sure? Seems to me that if the enemy can literally _smell_ you coming—”

“What are those pills for?” Carlos asked, his voice rising.

Cale huffed. “T1-A5 pathogen.”

“How long you been exposed?”

“Years.”

“How badly has it compromised your body?”

“I started vomiting and excreting blood some days ago. Doctor told me my intestines are beyond repair. Probably gonna be dead by this time next year.”

“Hmm.” Carlos blinked. “Stay here. Coordinate the attack. I’ll lead the unit into battle.”

“Negative. I’m coming.”

“You’re a liability, and you know it. I don’t need your pride putting this mission at risk.”

“This has nothing to do with my pride,” Cale snarled.

“Yes, it does. Otherwise you would’ve retired by now.”

“I’ve spent this entire month tracking down these assholes, and I’ve had no one to help me _except_ Stollar. Don’t you stand there and tell me what you _think_ I am.”

“I don’t think you’re a liability. I know you are.”

“Oh, but that adolescent chirop isn’t?”

“That chirop isn’t standing back here sweating profusely and taking pills to combat his condition.”

“I’m going. Deal with it.”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“This ain’t about your pride, prove it. Why do you need to bag this goat? He kill your family or something?”

Cale sniffled as he leaned against the tree and let out a soft rumble. “You ever been to the grocery store?”

“Irrelevant.”

“No, this is relevant to the situation. You been to the grocery store?”

“Yes.”

“Have you ever, um…” Cale snapped his fingers twice. “Apples. There we go. Have you—”

“I loathe apples.”

“Shut up and let me finish,” Cale snarled. “Whether or not you like apples, you’ve definitely _seen_ apples. So you know that every now and then, you’ll find an apple that isn’t _bad_ , but it has a small brown spot on it. One you can probably poke your finger into. Lotta people ignore these apples; lotta people throw ‘em in the trash, or just use ‘em for compost. These people don’t understand that the apple is still perfectly edible. All you need to do is cut off that small brown spot, and you can eat the rest without getting sick.”

Cale looked down at his right arm and curled his fingers, knowing full well they were all artificial. Then he slowly reached up and pushed two fingers into his left eye socket, grunting as he gradually removed his artificial eye and faced Carlos.

“I’m tired of people looking at me thinking I belong in a compost bin. I’m still ‘edible,’ Carlos. _Regardless_ of however many brown spots I have.”

Cale slowly placed his left eye back into its socket and exhaled as he straightened it out and blinked a few times.

“I’ve spent far too much time putting innocents in harm’s way for my own selfish wants. The least I can do is spend the last few years of my life putting _myself_ in harm’s way for innocents’ selfish wants.”

“Oh.”

Carlos didn’t say anything else. He just stared blankly at Cale, having nothing else to say about the matter.

“You still don’t think I should be out in the field.”

“No. Nevertheless, you can use a weapon. I’ll need more of those out in the field. I can assume your partner knows how to use a gun too?”

“Amongst other weapons, yes,” Cale said, not bringing up that Stollar wasn’t fully trained to handle guns.

“Then he can come too. Either of you slow us down, I’ll just kill you.”

Cale didn’t say anything else. Neither did Carlos. The two felines stared at each other before Carlos turned around and headed back to the tent. Cale snarled with disgust at the feline and shook his head.

“Asshole,” he murmured.

_________________________________________

Styx was soaring through the air, flapping his wings periodically as he looked down over the rainforest. His pointed ears wiggled as he heard different birds and chirops squawking or chirping in the distance, and tried to make sure that no one was hunting any of his kind. He had only been flying for about five minutes and already he could see a few roads and paths that were leading to what Styx assumed would be Kolson’s facility. He swooped down low, flying just above the forest’s canopy, and sniffed the air several times, tempted to stop so he could land.

“You spotted sentries hiding in the trees?” the hare mercenary asked.

“No. Papayas!”

“You can have one later.”

“Yes. That is something I _can_ do.”

Styx hovered down towards the trees and found some of the plump fruits sprouting from the branches. He licked his teeth before placing his feet on a heavy branch and leaning forward so he could bite a ripe papaya off with his teeth and set it on the same branch he was hanging from. Styx held the fruit in place with his thumbs and noisily chomped on the papaya several times, spitting out any seeds he felt around his mouth and swallowing the orange flesh with several thick gulps. When Styx finished, he discarded the inedible parts of the fruit and went back to flying in the sky, licking any of the juice from his lips.

“Coming up near a mountain. Facility’s just on the other side, yeah?” Styx asked.

“Should be, according to the map. You’re nearly there.”

Styx snorted twice as he rose higher into the air and flew over the mountain. Once he was over the peak of the structure, Styx saw a vast field that was void of any tree or notable flora or vegetation. Instead, all Styx saw was a gargantuan runway that led to two hangers. Right beside one of the hangers was a warehouse large enough for thousands of people to take refuge in had it been empty. Styx got closer to the base and began to circle around the area, discovering a second, smaller runway that had two planes and helicopters resting beside it. Styx also came across two separate buildings that were all the size of small houses, with each one looking like a sand-colored rectangular prism with a dirt-covered roof on top of them.

“Hoooooooollllly _shit. This_ was in the middle of the forest this entire time?” Styx asked.

“No way the authorities couldn’t have known about it. Someone must’ve been paying them to keep quiet.”

“If these guys are anything like us chirops, I wouldn’t blame ‘em. I kinda like the whole ‘scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours’ type of deal.”

“These ‘guys’ trade all sorts of illegal arms across the universe. Don’t see how you can sympathize with that kind of behavior.”

“All I know is that if these guys were able to supply me with the tools I needed to track down the asshole who took my eyes, I damn sure would’ve accepted their help.”

The hare paused for a moment. “We can argue about ethics later. Get lower.”

“On it.”

Styx descended and began to fly around the perimeter of the base, listening to some of the chatter from the ground while also staring at the giant structures to determine if anyone was already in the process of moving the pathogen.

“Okay, I’m counting about twenty guys so far. Can’t tell if they’re armed or not. Smellin’ lots of gunpowder, sweaty anthros, a rhino takin’ a shit behind that tree, and uh…I think plasma.”

“You can _smell_ plasma?”

“Maybe. Or maybe I can briefly hear someone shooting a plasma rifle. Which do you think?”

The hare groaned. “Have you seen any SAM sites?”

“What are those?”

“Surface-to-air missiles.”

“Oooooh those thingies! Nah, none of those ‘round here. If there were, I’d probably be dead by now.”

Just as Styx made another loop around the base, he spotted two more chirops emerging from the skylight of the warehouse, with both of them carrying a pallet’s worth of supplies that was all tied down with rope. The bat-like creatures were grasping the rope with their feet and flapping their wings as they made their way towards one of the runways.

“Huh. Guess that explains why no one’s shot me down yet,” Styx murmured to himself.

“Proceed with caution. Just because you’re a chirop doesn’t mean they won’t be suspicious of you.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, I know. Keep a low profile. Gotcha.”

________________________________________

Styx kicked open the door and burst into the building.

“WASSUP BITCHESSSSSSSS?!” he shouted.

Styx grinned toothily as he stepped into the building that was no bigger than a living room. Inside were five anthros all sleeping on a cot or on the floor, with some form of weapon beside them. Some of them shouted and fell off their beds, while others merely opened their eyes very slowly and looked at Styx with scorn.

“Fuckin’ chirops,” a lizard snarled.

“Whuh? Y’all weren’t having a party in here?”

“ _No_. We were sleeping.”

“Seriously? But it’s daytime! Dont’cha wanna be outside getting fresh air? Smells real stuffy in here.”

“GET THE FUCK OUT!”

Styx backed away, while the lizard stomped towards the door and slammed it shut before locking it. As the chirop turned around and began to walk around the base, he heard the hare grumbling in his ear.

“That wasn’t smart,” he chastised.

“Incorrect, bun-bun! I just gave you the location of five hostiles. They’re _sleeping_. In the middle of the day. That building I just came from could go down with a single RPG.”

Styx turned and faced west of the building he just walked out of. He saw a second installation that was exactly the same size and structure: no windows, one door, sand-colored cement and bricks.

“I reckon that building over there is the same. Must be makeshift barracks of some kind.”

“Hmm. Good work. Although I would prefer if you _avoid_ attention to yourself.”

“Tch! Them buildings had no windows! I can’t make a fist with my wings; how else was I supposed to know what was inside without kicking the door in?”

There was more grumbling on the other end of the line, but Styx couldn’t make out exactly what the hare said. He kept walking around on the ground, checking to see if any of the anthros needed help moving heavy equipment. When Styx spotted a bear who was struggling to carry two duffel bags over to an armored truck, the chirop rushed over towards her and promptly snatched one of the bags with his teeth.

“Wh—HEY! Let go of that!”

Styx mumbled with his mouth full and gestured towards the truck with his eyes. The brown bear softened up and exhaled.

“Oh…sorry. Sure, yes, just take the bag over there.”

Styx mumbled again and nodded, and both creatures walked towards the truck and set the bags into the bed of it. Once they finished, the ursine banged against the bumper twice, and the truck driver drove off and disappeared into the rainforest using a hidden trail.

“Sorry ‘bout that. Just looked like you were about to trip all over yourself,” Styx said.

“No, no, s’all right. Just been hectic these past few days.”

“Really? Hmm. Listen, uhhhh—”

“Polly.”

“Polly, right. I just came outta one of those barracks over there. I know I’m not a professional on personal hygiene, but it takes a lot to make my eyes water. Do you anthros not have showers here or something?”

Polly huffed. “It’s our boss. Well, my boss’s boss. Fucker has been running us ragged the past week now. Haven’t had time to sleep or eat much or even bathe. S’why we’re having you chirops help us to begin with.”

Polly reached over and looked at the fur on her arms. She casually reached up and grabbed some of the fur on her scalp, pulling out a few strands with no difficult.

“And that’s why my goddamn fur is falling out,” she snarled.

“Mm. Damn shame. Listen, why don’t you go rest for a while? Tell me what you were working on; I’d be happy to take your shift.”

“I appreciate that,” Polly said, smiling. “But the boss wants everyone he can spare right now. I’ll be okay. I just…I just gotta make more coffee.”

Styx watched as the brown bear huffed and rubbed her face repeatedly with her big paws. “About a gallon’s worth of coffee.”

“Mkay. Well, err, what should I do then?”

“Go find Torvo and Harris—big gorilla and a brown rabbit with no shirt on. Heard they were having some issues in the warehouse.”

“Understood.”

As Polly made her way over to one of the barracks with a break room inside of it, Styx turned and walked into the warehouse, ducking low and pushing open the door so he could walk inside. The chirop almost screeched in agony when he entered the building, the commotion inside almost rendering him deaf. Several powered pallet jacks were being driven around the open area, with the drivers making sure they didn’t tip over the contents on the pallets they were moving around. More chirops were in the building, some of whom flew up through the skylight carrying crates, while others were helping the anthros move heavy boxes and equipment around. There was a crane mounted to the ceiling that was whirring noisily as it moved around, occasionally lowering itself and grappling onto any rings attached to crates and lifting them off the floor. Styx tried not to draw attention to himself as he flapped his wings and decided to soar above the crowd, scrunching up his face as an amalgamation of musk, sweat, gunpowder, metal, and smoke filled his nostrils all at once.

As Styx flew around in the warehouse, he kept examining the floor, studying the amount of anthros who were coming and going from different corridors and rooms. One second he’d spot a burly hippo holding an assault rifle and wearing body armor; the next he noticed two meerkats throwing submachine guns into wooden crates; another second later, a hefty orca stumbled into the warehouse with what seemed to be a massive bomb strapped to his back. Styx landed on the floor and quietly entered one of the corridors. As he moved through the hallway, he pushed open any doors he could find just to study the rooms. Two of them were empty, one was a storage closest, one contained non-perishables, and two were bathrooms for the designated genders. Eventually Styx found a room where he spotted four different anthros meticulously handling giant railguns.

“Fuck nuggets. Is that a fucking _railgun_?” Styx asked.

“Get out,” a kangaroo snarled.

“But I wanna—”

“ _Out_.”

The kangaroo slammed the door in Styx’s face after shoving him outside. Styx pouted annoyingly as he looked at his wings, ears drooping.

“I wanna use the railgun,” he whined. “Goddamn wings!”

“Are you sure those were railguns?”

As Styx walked down the corridor, he said, “You saw ‘em, bun-bun. What the hell else could they have been?”

“Shit…we’re gonna have to neutralize them first.”

“I could do it.”

“No. They still think you’re on their side; keep acting natural.”

“Yeah, yeah, I gotcha. Hopefully I’ll find this rabbit and gorilla—”

“Who are you talking to?”

Styx immediately stopped talking when a cheetah walked up to the chirop, wagging her tail with her eyebrow raised. The chirop stammered and looked left and right.

“E-err…nobody.”

“You’re talking to _nobody_ in the corridors?”

“Yes,” Styx said, as bluntly as possible.

“Why the hell—”

“Because I can goddamn fuckin’ talk to nobody if I fuckin’ want to motherfucker! It’s a goddamn free-fuckin’-country and there ain’t no fuckin’ laws saying I can’t fuckin’ talk to no one, so don’t be crawling in my ass whinin’ ‘bout shit that I can’t fuckin’ do if I goddamn fuckin’ feel like doin’ it! SHIT!”

The cheetah just stared at Styx with wide eyes. Eventually she raised her paws and walked around the chirop.

“Okay, _damn_. Talk to your-fuckin’-self,” she said, walking away.

Styx huffed as he stomped into the next area of the warehouse, snorting heavily through his nostrils.

“Subtle,” the hare said over the earpiece.

“I will shove my thumb up your ass, bun-bun,” Styx growled.

“What the hell for?! Only person who needs a cork in their ass is Torvo here!” shouted Harris.

Styx turned and spotted Harris and Torvo standing together near a series of turquoise crates that had biohazard and highly combustible symbols on them. The chirop cleared his throat as he stared at the two of them.

“Heeeeeeeeeeey, I was lookin’ for you two actually! Heard you were having some trouble here?”

“Yeah. Our crane is out of commission right now. Struggling to haul these crates onto the pallets and _Torvo_ doesn’t know how to stack properly!”

“We got shrink wrap _and_ rope. They’ll be fine,” the gorilla responded.

“You know damn well what’s in these canisters!”

Styx blinked. “Explosive flatulence?”

Torvo huffed and rolled his eyes. “Yes, we get it. I have gas issues. You two done now?”

“As much as I would enjoy poking fun at Torvo,” Harris began, “the shit in these canisters will make your fur fall out and cause you to hemorrhage from all your orifices or eat away at your flesh. Crack one of these babies open and you’ll spend an agonizing two minutes puking and shitting out your organs.”

“Lovely,” Styx said flatly. “Gimme a moment.”

“Sure.”

The chirop quickly retreated behind a stack of barrels and started to breathe heavily. “Think I found your pathogen.”

“Excellent. How many canisters are there?”

“A shit-ton.”

“Specify.”

“I can’t count ‘em all! There’s _that_ many! These anthros got ‘em packed inside crates, and there’s a buncha crates packed onto multiple pallets! The fuck are they gonna use ‘em all for?!”

“They intend on destroying a moon with it.”

“There’s enough of this shit to wipe out a moon?! Why didn’t you tell me?!”

“Why didn’t you ask?”

“FUCK YOU AND YOUR FUCK—”

Styx felt like someone was watching him, so he immediately shut his mouth and turned around. No one was listening in on his conversation, and he approached Harris and Torvo again with a wide smile on his face.

“Sooooooooo whatcha need me to do?”

“Help us stack all this stuff onto the pallets. We’ll shrink-wrap it, tie it down with rope, and then you can lift the canisters and set ‘em into whatever crate we tell you to put ‘em in. Then you can haul the entire crate onto the pallets.”

“Sounds easy enough.”

_______________________________________

Styx was panting profusely with his mouth open and hot breath exploding in front of his face. Grunting and struggling, the chirop grasped onto a collection of canisters using his feet, and then carried the canisters up into one of the empty crates. After the chirop set the canisters down into the empty container, the panting bat slowly flew back down to the floor and exhaled noisily, while Torvo and Harris found themselves leaning against the wall or sitting down from exhaustion.

“There…I’m finished,” Styx said wearily.

“Yaaaaaaaaaaay,” Harris said unenthusiastically, before wiping sweat from his face.

Torvo grumbled as he felt his stomach growling. “Hey, I’m gonna go take a shit real quick. Lemme know if anything happens when I get back.”

“Kaaaaaaaay.”

As the gorilla began to leave the facility, Harris huffed and got back onto his footpaws before saying, “You should probably go talk to the boss at this point. Not sure what else he wants you chirops to do.”

“Your boss?” Styx asked.

“Yeah, Kolson, skinny brown goat. Looks like he hasn’t been sleeping in two months. Think he’s in one of the break rooms.”

“On it.”

Styx resumed his journey throughout the warehouse, moving his way past the stacks of canisters and instead moving back into the corridors once more. He disregarded any of the closets or other empty rooms he spotted around him and headed straight for two of the break rooms. After peeking inside one of them, he spotted a brown goat sitting down at a table gazing at an assortment of papers and folders in front of him. Standing across from the table were a burly panther and a chubby koala bear who was busy picking his ear. Styx nonchalantly waddled into the room, and the goat snorted and turned around. The winged beast almost visibly grimaced when he saw Kolson; the goat’s eyes were almost completely red, his fur was shaggy and smothered in sweat, and one of his hands wouldn’t stop shaking.

“I don’t need any chirops helping me right now, thanks,” Kolson barked.

“OH! I-I wasn’t coming to help, I was just checking on you—”

“I am. Fine. Okay? There is nothing wrong with me.”

“Yes, there is, boss,” said the panther.

“Joey, I already told you—”

“I know what you told me. And now I’m telling you that this isn’t healthy. You’ve been up for five days straight—you need to lie down.”

“What I need is for this to go perfectly. There ain’t no one left but me and the Baron.”

“That’s why you need to get some sleep, boss! You gotta make sure you’re in tip-top shape and all that!” cried the koala bear.

Kolson exhaled. “Kully, I know you mean well—”

Absent-mindedly, the goat jerked his left hand over and knocked over his cup of hot chocolate, which spilled onto some of the papers. Infuriated, he grabbed his mug and screamed “GODDAMN IT!” before tossing it across the room and shattering it. When Kolson tried to stand up, he wobbled a little bit and nearly stumbled backwards, his legs feeling weak. Almost instantly, Joey rushed to grab some paper towels, while Kully approached Kolson and kept him steady.

“We got it, boss,” Joey said.

“No! I spilled it; I’ll clean it up,” Kolson snapped.

While Joey started to unroll the paper towels, Styx nonchalantly approached the table and lowered his head, flicking out his tongue and licking the sweet brown fluids staining the table. Joey glared at the chirop and snorted.

“I have paper towels.”

Styx stopped slurping and looked up. “Yeah. And?”

The panther snorted when Styx bent over and resumed licking the mess off the table. Kully saw what the chirop was doing and simply rolled his eyes before tending to Kolson once again.

“Boss, get some sleep. I’m not asking you,” Joey said, wiping up some of the hot chocolate that Styx hadn’t licked up yet. “I’m telling you.”

“The rest of us will be fine, boss! That wasp’s goons ain’t comin’ here ‘til tomorrow morning, we got the chirops helping us, we got all the guys pulling double shifts—everything’s all set! Joey and I can handle everything for a few hours.”

Kolson huffed a few times as he shut his eyes and pressed his hand against his forehead, feeling dizzy. “Fine…yes…yes. I’ll-I’ll get some rest then. But you two _better_ alert me if anything unusual happens while I’m asleep.”

“Yeah, yeah, we know the drill. C’mon, let’s go.”

Styx lifted his head and gulped after he finished licking up a majority of the hot chocolate. He walked out into the corridor and watched as Kolson limped his way through the halls with Kully by his side. The chirop made his way over to one of the open closets and hid inside of it briefly.

“So we good then? Y’all know where the canisters _and_ the target are. Shouldn’t be too much of a hassle from this point forward,” Styx said into his earpiece.

“Affirmative. Keep following Kolson for now. We’ll let you know whenever we have our plans finalized.”

“That’s it? You’ll ‘let me know’?”

“Yes. For now keep pretending that you’re just a chirop helping them out. We’ll contact you again later.”

Styx heard the earpiece crackle and go silent. The chirop groaned before he turned around, pushed the door open with his muzzle, and headed back out into the corridor.

____________________________________

“Hey.”

Stollar blinked as he looked up and spotted Wyatt standing beside him. He had to squint a bit; the clouds were no longer blocking the sun and it was beginning to set, causing some of the sun’s rays to shine in Stollar’s eyes. The alopid didn’t say anything, and instead gestured for Wyatt to sit down beside him. The Saint Bernard took a seat on the same wide, flat rock Stollar was sitting on and exhaled, while Stollar looked in his hands at the knife one of Carlos’ mercenaries loaned him. He started to twirling it around multiple times, watching as the edge of the blade glimmered in the sunlight.

“What up with that?” Wyatt asked.

“Hmm?”

“I mean you got OCD or something?”

“No, I—” Stollar noticed what he was subconsciously doing and set the knife down before huffing. “I’m just, uh—”

“Nervous?”

“Heh, yeah.”

“Figured. Carlos always tells us to void ourselves so we don’t have any accidents. Hard to hide from the enemy if they can smell your trousers.”

“I don’t think Carlos is one who should be giving lectures about odors,” Stollar grumbled.

“Hehe, got a point there, bud!”

Both of them stopped talking for a moment and listened to the ambiance, more birds chirping or flapping their wings, along with some other alien lifeforms that were chattering in garbled tongues. Stollar bit on the end of his right thumb, grinding his teeth against his nail and mumbling. Wyatt raised an eyebrow.

“You sure you’re okay?”

“No. I mean yes. I’m—yes, but no.” Stollar exhaled before he looked over his shoulder at the campsite, where he spotted Cale talking with some of the other mercenaries. “Cale Tomlik has been cold for a very long time, y’know? He used to be like your partner. But over the past year, we’ve grown closer. And over the past month…well.”

“You have feelings for him.”

“Not _those_ feelings. It’s just…I haven’t really, um, been ‘social’ for a while. The one person who seems to understand me—and the one person I also understand—is the person who’s been dying slowly for nearly half a decade. I just—I feel like one day he’ll go to sleep, and that’ll be it. I feel like we’ll go on a mission together—like this one here—and his illness will get him killed.”

“You think he’s a liability.”

“No, I don’t. I’m just stating the realism of the situation. My friend is very sick. I don’t know how much longer he’ll last. Both of us are starting to realize that doctors will probably never develop a cure for that T1-A5 pathogen.”

“Seems like he’s been doing fine so far.”

“And I get that. But some days…I wish Cale wasn’t doing this. Sometimes I just…I wanna relax and just…hang out with him. The other day? Cale and I spent hours watching a bunch of TV shows while eating nachos. Then we played a drinking game. That’s it. No fighting warlords, no stopping genocides, no preventing future rapes—it was just us relaxing. We haven’t…we _don’t_ do that. That was the first time in a very long while where we weren’t focusing on a mission. And I want Cale to live long enough for the two of us to do stuff like that again.”

Stollar self-consciously folded his arms. “I’m…I’m not making much sense, am I?”

“No, you’re making perfect sense. And I envy that you have that kind of relationship with your partner,” Wyatt responded.

“You and Carlos don’t do ‘fun stuff’ together?”

“No. Because that would make us undetached. And that can’t happen in this line of work.”

“Whatcha mean?”

“I mean you can’t go around killing people for money and expect to have a personal life. Shit just don’t work out like that.”

“So none of you have boyfriends or girlfriends, or wives or husbands, or children?”

“No.”

“What about family?”

“Parents dead. Sister wants nothing to do with me. I doubt Carlos has a family.”

“So you’ve been Carlos’ partner for years…and that’s all you are? Just coworkers who fight alongside each other during shootouts? Nothing more?”

“Carlos believes that that’s the strongest bond you can form with someone. If you ain’t willing to die alongside your coworker, you’re worthless. If you ain’t willing to fulfill your mission, you’re a liability.”

Wyatt shrugged. “Never said I liked it. But Carlos is a damn fine mercenary. And he always succeeds in completing the missions of our caliber.”

“Define ‘caliber.’”

The Saint Bernard looked at Stollar and smirked. “That’s a frozen lake you do not even wanna _try_ to cross. You seem like a pretty chill dude if I’m being honest. Kinda nice I can talk about stuff like this out in the open.”

“Likewise. Y’know, I could see you and Cale sharing a beer together.”

“There’s many things I wanna ‘share’ with that thick lion. Beer ain’t one of ‘em.”

Stollar snickered before saying, “He’s single, you know.”

Wyatt grinned widely. “Is he now?”

Before either of the creatures could say anything else, Carlos walked over towards them and grunted as he beckoned them.

“There’s a situation developing. Need you two updated on the new details.”

Wyatt nodded as he stood up. “Gotcha.”

As Wyatt headed for the tent, Stollar stood up and began to walk towards the campsite, only for Carlos to block his path. The anthro glared down at Stollar for a while, and Stollar raised an eyebrow in confusion.

“You good?”

“What did Wyatt tell you just now?”

“He said you two are good partners. You’re both detached.”

“What about you? Are you detached from Cale Tomlik?”

“No,” Stollar candidly stated. “And I know where you’re heading with this. I don’t need you telling me what you _think_ I am. I’m not a liability, and I’m not gonna bungle this mission. Now move.”

Stollar scoffed as he shoved his way past Carlos and headed over into the tent. Carlos joined soon afterwards, and the two of them, alongside Cale, Wyatt, and the hare talking to Styx all found themselves staring at live footage from Styx’s cybernetic eyes. On the screen, they all witnessed a colossal dark red spaceship with black stripes landing at the biggest runway on the base. They all took note of the ship’s massive wings, both of which looked big enough to tear through dozens of trees. The body of the ship was mostly arrow-shaped, with the underside formed like a giant rectangular prism, mostly for storing cargo. Styx grunted over the live footage as he flapped his wings and landed on the ground, making his way to the runway.

“Hey, guys…you seeing this?” Styx whispered.

“Affirmative,” Cale growled. “Get closer; we need a visual on what’s inside that spacecraft.”

Everyone kept watching the live feed, observing as the loading ramp for the ship hissed and lowered, placing itself against the ground diagonally. A few seconds later, giant hornet-like aliens flew out of the ship, landing on the ground with heavy thuds and donning dark blue armor with green stripes on it. Cale growled as he stared at the creatures.

“Apids,” he snarled.

“ _Shit_. This just got complicated,” Wyatt murmured.

Styx still kept observing them, jumping up and moving a crate with his giant feet and pretending that he was still working. Meanwhile, Kolson stormed out of the warehouse he was resting in and stomped over to the apids exiting the ship.

“What the hell is this?! I told Maynard we’ll be ready by dawn tomorrow!” Kolson shouted.

“We’re aware,” one apid said, before slurping. “But Commander Maynard has noticed various monumental failures with your organization.”

“What failures?! We made the pathogen; we tested it out; we’ve secured safe passage outside of this galaxy’s sector. We’ve done everything you’ve requested from us!”

“At the cost of three of your top leaders, and dozens of your own men.”

“Those were all minor setbacks—”

“And this is a minor change in plans. We’ll be taking your shipment now.”

Kolson stammered. “My men have been run ragged. Half of them haven’t had any sleep. They need some time to rest and eat—”

“Commander Maynard wants nothing more to do with your organization. The sooner we get the shipment, the sooner we leave. We’re not waiting for something else to spontaneously go wrong, not when we’re this close to our victory.”

“Fuck’s sake—fine, fine. We’ll get your shipment now then. After that, you get the fuck off my base.”

The apid nodded and slurped. “Understood.”

Stollar took a huge breath as he moved away from the portable monitor, while Wyatt swore a few more times. Cale wouldn’t stop gritting his teeth, while Carlos stared at the monitor and merely blinked a few times.

“Fuckin’ shit,” Wyatt snarled.

“They’re moving the shipment already?!” Stollar asked.

“Guys? The hell am I supposed to do about these bee things?” Styx asked as he flew away from the runaway.

Cale took a long breath and snorted. “Everyone quiet! Just give me a moment to think!”

The white tiger turned and faced the lion before asking, “Are you sure you’re capable of that?”

Frustrated, Cale snorted as he looked the tiger and stepped up to him. “How old are you?”

“That question is irrelevant.”

“I don’t care. Answer.”

“Thirty.”

“I’m nearly twice your age, and I’m _still_ doing the same level of fieldwork as you. When you get to my age and you start feeling the joints in your body creaking and your bones snapping and your teeth start falling out, then and only then do you get the right to lecture my ability to perform out in the field. Until then, you shut your mouth and you let me command _my_ mission that I presented to you.”

Carlos stared blankly at the lion before blinking. “Fine. But my men will follow _my_ commands. I will deviate from yours if I see that they are illogical, and so will they.”

“Fine.” Cale ran a paw across his face. “Wyatt, what are our munitions looking like?”

“Assault rifles, pistols, knives, grenades, usual kit. No shotguns though. We got C-4 and an RPG-7 too in case we need to wreck some heavy artillery.”

“Bring those. We’re gonna have to destroy the vehicles, take out all the planes _especially_. Cars and trucks we can easily sabotage the fuel lines or engines.”

“What about the apid spaceship? Looks like it’s Class VII,” the hare responded.

“That looks like a cargo ship, nothing more. They’re already taking a risk entering Drorix territory; I doubt they used a spaceship armed with turrets. One of us is gonna have to sneak onto the ship and destroy the cockpit. If they can’t take off, we’ll be safe.”

“Can’t we just sabotage the engines?”

“Negative. Class VII ships have too much armor on them; we won’t be able to destroy them from the outside. Best to take out its controls altogether.”

“Just a little tidbit here,” Styx said, chiming in through his earpiece, “but I saw one of those explosion symbol thingies on those canisters.”

Cale sighed. “Even better. We may just have to blow up a stack of canisters and everything will explode on impact and take the ship down with it. All that heat should be able to destroy the pathogen and render it harmless.”

Wyatt cleared his throat. “Right. So. About the fifty or so armed anthros patrolling the place, not to mention the extra fifteen or so apid warriors clad in armor our bullets won’t penetrate?”

Cale lifted his plasma pistol and brandished it. “S’why I don’t use regular bullets no more. Everyone else, you know how it goes. Silent, swift, stealthy. Don’t use anything but knives and silenced weapons. Try to take out the rail gunners first. And acquire those weapons and any plasma weapons you find; you’re gonna need them to kill the apids.”

“What happens if the alarm goes off? Won’t the apids freak out and leave with whatever pathogen they got?” Stollar asked.

“Yes. Let them,” Carlos interjected. “The pathogen’s secondary. There’s no need to put any—”

“No,” Cale interrupted. “Both objectives are _primary_. That cache of pathogen must be destroyed. Kolson Arcornoc must be taken in alive. Anything less than that is a mission failure.”

Carlos blinked and shrugged. “You’re the boss.”

Cale snapped his fingers twice. “S’your name again?”

“Geoff,” said the hare.

“Right. How long you think it’ll take to reach the base?”

“If we’re trying to avoid detection? Half an hour to drive, another fifteen minutes to walk on foot.”

“We leave now then. Let’s move out!” Cale shouted.

Stollar looked at the hare as he stuttered for a minute, while Wyatt, Carlos, and Cale all walked outside, getting ready to gather their weapons and other supplies for the upcoming mission. Stollar rushed over to Cale and stepped in front of him, blocking his path.

“C’mon, Stollar. We gotta move now.”

“Don’t-don’t you think we’re rushing this? This is usually how shit goes wrong!”

“We don’t have a choice this time around. They’re collecting the shipment already. Those apids leave the planet, the chances of us tracking them down decrease phenomenally. We can’t wait until tonight, and we certainly can’t wait until morning. We move now.”

“But what if this doesn’t go according to plan?”

“Oh, I know it won’t.” Cale shrugged. “Never does.”

Stollar narrowed his eyes as he glared at the lion. “You’re fuckin’ with me, aren’t you?”

“Negative. Look, Stollar, I used to live for this shit. Spying on the enemy, infiltrating secret labs, trying to find my target in a city full of millions—that’s the hard part. Stuff like this right here, performing a sneak attack within a narrow timeframe? Walk in the park for me.”

“Guess this is the one time I should be glad you were a Striker.”

Cale nodded. “This won’t be like the last few times, I swear. We have a plan this time—admittedly a somewhat rushed one. We know where and what the targets are. We know how to find them. We’re properly equipped with the right tools. We have backup. On top of that? We’re aware of this sudden ‘surprise’ the enemy presented us, so now we know we’ll be fighting apid warriors too.”

“Huh…those are all valid points. And we got an advantage; Kolson and most of his men are exhausted. If anything, they’ll be the ones making mistakes here.”

“All that being said, something will probably go wrong. _Expect_ it to. Don’t follow the plan if the situation deviates from it. Follow the plan you planned yourself if the initial plan backfires, and you’ll be okay.”

“…I _did_ break out of police custody while I was handcuffed and defenseless.”

The lion chuckled and slapped Stollar on the back. “See? You’ll be fine. I’ll be fine. And we’re gonna stop these fuckers once and for all this time, without any innocents caught in the crossfire. Okay?”

Stollar still felt ambivalent. Even when he considered everything he and Cale had survived, he still thought something would go wrong, and that the aliens would get what they needed and succeed in slaughtering nearly a billion innocents. Then he looked up at Cale’s soft smile, which seemed more confident than cocky, and somehow it reassured him that they everything would turn out all right. So Stollar just smiled back at the lion and nodded.

“Okay.”


	16. The Mule

The blue chirop sniffled as he looked at the door leading into the security room. He grunted as he slowly lowered his head and pushed down on the door’s handle with his chin, opening the door very slowly and gently. Once it was opened, the anthro inside grunted as he turned around and looked at the chirop.

“Hey, hey, you can’t be in here. S’for the boss’s personnel only!”

Styx chuckled as the door closed behind him. “Oh, sorry ‘bout that! One of your men joked that this was the bathroom so I came—”

“We do have _signs_ on the doors, y’know.”

Styx blinked. “Maybe _you_ could show me where the bathrooms are?”

The white-furred rabbit exhaled as he got up from his seat and walked towards Styx. “Fine. But don’t—”

Styx jerked his head forward like a snapping turtle. The rabbit heard a meaty tearing noise, like gristle being ripped from a juicy rib. He stared at Styx for a moment and noticed that his mouth was bloody, and had a chunk of fur and flesh hanging from his teeth. The chirop smirked mischievously, while the rabbit gurgled and felt warm fluids running down his chest. When he looked down at his throat, he was disturbed to see that a portion of his neck was missing and his esophagus had ruptured. The rabbit didn’t have time to even scream or try to reach for an alarm. He just took a step backwards before collapsing onto the floor, gurgling as blood pooled around his head. Styx calmly devoured the flesh and fur in his mouth before swallowing.

“You at the security room?” Cale asked over earpiece.

“Yeah. Still ain’t been spotted yet!”

“Cameras deactivated?”

“Hold on.”

Styx walked over to the control panel and the series of monitors showing off the various rooms spread around the warehouse, as well as some footage depicting the areas outside of the facility. The blue beast heard his stomach grumbling and inhaled sharply as chunky fluids filled his mouth. Then he retched as he spat a glob of greenish-yellow acid onto the control panel. Styx backed away and observed as the acid gradually ate away at the panels, hissing and causing the panel to crackle as the circuitry inside dissolved. The chirop grinned as he looked at the monitors depicting the cameras’ footage, and they all went offline and emitted nothing but static.

“Cameras are down,” Styx confirmed.

_______________________________________

“Okay good, we’re heading in now,” Cale said, while he hid in the bushes just outside of the warehouse.

Crouching beside Cale was Carlos and Geoff, while Stollar and the other three mercenaries were busy infiltrating the base from the other side of the compound. Carlos was scanning the environment using his binoculars, checking to see which anthros they’d be able to neutralize without being detected. He came across two anthros who were busy loading supplies onto a truck far away from the rest of Kolson’s entourage. Carlos lowered his binoculars and sniffed.

“Two by the truck. Driver inside.”

“I’ll take out the driver,” Cale responded, lowering his assault rifle and taking out his knife instead. “You two deal with the sentries behind the truck.”

Geoff and Carlos nodded, while Cale crept his way towards a tree just a few yards away from the truck. He pressed his back against the tree bark before looking to his right and watching as Carlos and Geoff took out their sniper rifles. Both of them fired and changed locations.

“Targets down,” Carlos responded.

Cale nodded and peered around the corner of the tree, where he saw the driver curiously look in the rearview mirror before getting out the vehicle. As he started to walk to the bed of the truck, Cale sprinted onto the dirt-paved road, moving behind the truck driver as quickly as possible. As soon as the driver heard Cale sprinting, he was already coughing and gurgling once Cale drove his knife into his spine. He stabbed him again in the back of the neck before dropping his body to the ground and pushing it beneath the truck. Then he grabbed the two bodies Carlos and Geoff neutralized earlier and hid them as well.

“Driver’s down. Geoff, head to the barracks in the north; the anthros inside are still sleeping from what Styx saw.”

“On it.”

Cale watched as someone came out of the warehouse holding a cup of coffee in her paws. He snarled in frustration as the brown bear downed the entire mug in one big gulp before breathing steadily and walking towards the truck. Cale hid against the bumper and waited.

“God, that feels better,” Polly murmured. “Jackson! You ready to move—”

Cale emerged from his hiding spot and cut Polly’s throat open. She dropped her mug and gasped before Cale stabbed her three more times in the face and set her body down against the same bumper he was hiding against. When he looked back up, he saw Geoff silently sprinting his way across the dirt-covered roads, while Carlos regrouped with him. He pointed at the door leading into the warehouse before pointing up towards the sky once they heard wings fluttering. Both of them waited beside the truck as they observed a few apids flying through the air, their giant bee-like wings flapping repeatedly as they carried plasma rifles in their hands.

“Clear,” Cale said once the apids were out of sight.

Cale quickly lifted the hood of the truck and cut several wires around the engine, ensuring no one would be able to drive away with it. Afterwards, the felines moved towards the warehouse, just as someone opened up the door and began to walk outside. Cale gritted his teeth and swore inwardly before he raised his assault rifle and fired at the German Shepherd twice. He didn’t even have time to shout before he fell onto the ground. Cale panted as he dragged the dog’s heavy body behind a stack of barrels and coughed four times.

“You good?” Carlos inquired.

“Don’t act like you give a shit,” Cale snarled, before taking a deep breath. “Just continue with the mission; I’ll hold up.”

Carlos shrugged. “If you say so.”

As they entered the warehouse, both of them heard a toilet flushing and water running in one of the nearby bathrooms. Cale kicked open the door just as someone was about to step outside, bashing them in the head. As the anthro fell down, a hippo emerged from the stalls exhaling. And then he grunted when Cale shot him in the abdomen four times. The lizard who was lying on the floor coughed as he tried to stand back up, his snout bleeding. Cale blinked and shot him in the forehead once before hiding both bodies inside the stalls. When he came out into the corridor, Carlos had emerged from the women’s restroom exhaling.

“Two more down,” he responded.

“Same,” Cale said.

“Hostiles in the first barracks neutralized,” Geoff said over the earpiece.

“Good.” Cale sniffled and rubbed his nose. “I’d say they’re down twenty percent now.”

Cale gestured for Carlos to follow him into the main storage area of the warehouse, and just as they were making their way through the corridor, they spotted a brown rabbit walking alongside a burly gorilla.

“Hey, Harris, you smell that?”

Harris exhaled. “I swear to fuck—I’m gonna shower tonight, all right?”

“No, not you…smells like a tiger. Thought Emmet was on vacation?”

“Don’t worry ‘bout it. Everyone in this damn warehouse needs to shower; all our scents keep mixing together.” Harris sniffed and wiped his nose as he walked past a few pallets containing boxes full of guns. “Think we should go check on the boss? He’s been getting real snappy ever since them apids showed up.”

“No. Just do whatever these hornets want and keep checking the perimeter.”

“All right.” Harris yawned before looking up at the corner of the ceiling and realizing that the small light on one of the cameras was off. More importantly, the camera wasn’t moving at all. “Mm. Cameras on the fritz again?”

“Colson’s dumbass probably spilled coffee on the control panels again.” Torvo rubbed his eyes and snorted. “You go check on him; I’m gonna see where Polly went off to.”

“Sure thing, Torv.”

Harris yelped sharply and began to gag. When Torvo turned around to look at the rabbit, he noticed a blade was protruding out of his mouth, and his eyes were slowly rolling backwards into their sockets. Cale was standing behind the leporid gripping a knife he just inserted into the back of the anthro’s head. Torvo was just starting to reach for his firearm when he noticed Carlos—who promptly shot him three times in the chest. Torvo grunted as his body twitched and he fell on his back. Cale removed his knife and kicked Harris’ body to the floor.

“Any trouble on your end, Stollar?” Cale asked.

___________________________________

“Just finished setting another block of C-4,” Stollar replied, as he set a charge against the underside of a small plane.

The alopid crouched down as he walked away from the plane and quickly sprinted across one of the smaller runways. As he moved down the dirt path, he heard something squawk above him and scowled when he noticed one of the chirops spotted him. Stollar stood near a set of motorcycles parked just east of the runway and huffed when a red-furred chirop landed in front of him. She flared her nostrils and snorted at the alopid.

“Ain’t see you ‘fore,” she growled.

“I’m new. Last minute reinforcements. Got a small team with me and everything,” Stollar quickly answered.

“Uh-huh. Where they at?”

“Err…behind those trees in the forest?”

The chirop grinned. “You really think I’m gon’—”

A massive bullet hole materialized against the side of the winged beast’s head. She suddenly collapsed to the ground in front of Stollar, while the alopid swore and wiped blood from his face.

“Damn it, Wyatt!”

“What? Looked like she was about to rip your face off,” the Saint Bernard responded.

“…Actually, you know what?” Stollar exhaled as he took out his two handguns and pointed them at the chirop. He shot the beast’s body several times and wiped his forehead, conveniently just as a few apids fluttered their way to go check and see what was causing the disturbance. After landing in front of Stollar, they looked at the chirop’s body before looking at the alopid.

“What happened here?”

“Fuckin’ bat tried to bite my face off!” Stollar snarled. “Goddamn chirops.”

Two of the apids murmured something in an alien language, while the one glaring at Stollar burbled.

“I suggest you purge your personnel of these chirops if this is how they’re going to act.”

Stollar nodded. “Duly noted.”

Stollar waited for the apids to fly away before he messaged members of his unit. “Styx, alert all the chirops and take ‘em to a secluded part of the forest.”

“Why?”

“I need you to kill ‘em. Two of our guys will assist you.”

“Awesome!”

Stollar shook his head and blinked. “Wyatt, on me. We’re gonna set explosives on the pathogen and try to find those railgunners.”

“Understood.”

Stollar made his way towards the warehouse entrance on the east side and remained by the door. He heard more squawking and several wings flapping in the skies above him. Stollar looked up and witnessed Styx flying northeast towards the forest, with four other chirops following him. He began to descend, and the two other mercenaries allied with Wyatt split up. Wyatt rushed over to Stollar’s location while the other mercenaries ran towards where Styx was about to land. Once the dog and alopid were together, they both nodded and pushed open the door before peeking inside.

“Clear,” Stollar responded.

Wyatt went into the warehouse first, with Stollar trailing behind him. They made their way down the corridor with little difficulty; Wyatt checked all the rooms on the left, while Stollar examined the ones to his right. He found the break room and saw one anthro sleeping on a chair, while two more were busy eating spicy noodles. Stollar raised his handguns and shot at them multiple times, his pistols softly coughing up bullets. The anthro sleeping on the chair snorted after hearing the noises, causing Stollar to grimace.

_Silencers my ass!_ Stollar thought inwardly.

Stollar quickly shot the anthro four times as he was starting to get off the chair. Afterwards, he huffed and walked back out into the corridor.

“We gotta hurry,” Stollar said, breathless.

“You set off an alarm?”

“We’re dropping too many bodies. At this rate, someone’s gonna find ‘em all.”

Wyatt smirked. “No worries. Guess what I found?”

The canine pushed open a door leading into the same storage area where the pathogen was being stored. Stollar’s eyes widened as he stepped inside and saw various pallets and stacks of canisters containing the lethal gases inside. He huffed as he looked up at the cameras, double-checking to make sure that they were all disabled.

“Styx?” Stollar whispered over his earpiece.

Stollar grimaced as he heard crunching and bones snapping in his ears. Styx swallowed before asking, “Yeah?”

“You _sure_ the cameras are neutralized?”

“Absolutely! Guy watching over the monitors is dead, and I sabotaged the entire system!”

“What about the other chirops?”

Stollar heard more flesh tearing and grimaced. “Mmf…def nuffalizzf…” Styx swallowed. “Hey, if you eat meat from the same species as you that’s already dead, is that cannibalism?”

“Yes.”

“Ohhhh…well then!”

Stollar heard more crunching over the earpiece. He grimaced before shutting off the device and inspecting the storage facility. Both creatures counted no less than nine stacks of canisters spread around the building, but they also noticed several giant areas on the floor that had shavings and giant chunks of wood around them.

“Fuck…I think these are the last dozen,” Stollar said grimly.

Wyatt sifted through his weapons and took out a block of C-4. “No point talking about it. Set the charges. We’ll just have to take down the spaceship afterwards.”

Stollar knew the canine was right. He didn’t bother wasting any time, and instead set some of the C-4 charges onto the canisters of pathogen in the warehouse. After the duo finished with their task, they heard one of the doors creaking open, followed by fast-paced footsteps. Stollar hid against the canisters and gripped his handguns firmly, waiting for whoever was walking to idly pass by the stack. Once Stollar saw an alligator walking forward and carrying a railgun, he raised his firearm upwards and shot the reptile through the cheek. He grunted and fell to the floor, shortly before Stollar looked across the side of the pallets and saw another anthro carrying a railgun, which was pointed at him. The alopid quickly pressed his body against the canisters and smirked. Knowing his weapon could pierce the canisters and result in a gas leak, the anthro set his railgun aside and approached Stollar holding a knife instead. He didn’t have enough time to take three steps before Wyatt crept behind the cervine and stabbed him in the back of the neck.

“You good?” Wyatt asked.

“Yeah,” Stollar said, before he noticed the alligator was still moving and shot him in the skull again. “I’m good.”

Both creatures picked up the railgun that both anthros dropped. Stollar audibly strained himself, grunting as he tried to hold the railgun properly.

“Fuck’s sake—I may as well walk around holding a cast-iron skillet!” Stollar complained.

“When you see what these things can do, you’ll be glad you’re carrying it.”

Stollar headed towards one of the rear doors and slowly opened it just far enough to see what was outside. He frowned once he spotted several of Kolson’s goons standing on the runway helping the apids load the last pallet of the pathogen into the spaceship’s storage unit. Stollar looked to the left and right, noticing a few crates and barrels that could be used for cover, as well as an attack chopper that was still parked near a set of trees. He closed the door and grumbled as he spoke into his earpiece again.

“Status report.”

“Chirops all gone! Took out another few anthros along the way,” Styx responded.

“Killed about a dozen targets who were busy sleeping in the barracks,” Geoff answered.

“Carlos and I cleared out this section of the warehouse. All the trucks and jeeps are disabled,” Cale answered.

“We’ve set our explosives on all the planes and some of the pathogen inside the warehouse. They got an attack chopper and they’re still loading some of the pathogen onto the spaceship,” said Stollar.

“How many hostiles are outside?”

“Not including the apids? Prolly ten, fifteen. Kolson’s out there too.”

Cale exhaled over the earpiece. “Geoff, how fast can you get to the runway?”

“Minute or two. Heading over there now.”

“Caleb, Tony, you two join him. Styx, fly over the runway and cause a distraction. Stollar and Wyatt, hold your position. Carlos and I are coming over there now.”

Stollar nodded. “Roger that.”

After speaking to Cale over the earpiece, Wyatt gestured for Stollar to head outside. Both of them gradually opened the door and crept outside near a few giant metal crates and hid behind them. They waited impatiently and listened to the various apids chattering to each other and moving the final pallet onto the spaceship, while Kolson and his crew were checking the perimeter to ensure that no one was trying to disrupt their plans. Stollar peered over the corner of the crate he was hiding behind and huffed.

“Hell, I think they’re getting paranoid,” Stollar murmured.

“Agreed. Looks like Kolson is radioing his guys. …Mm. Don’t think they’re responding,” Wyatt concluded.

Stollar huffed and gritted his teeth. “Because we killed ‘em all. Damn it—Geoff, Carlos, Cale, how much longer ‘til you guys get here?”

“Nearing the runway. Got a fix on your location,” said Geoff.

As Stollar waited, he looked down at his pistols before setting down the railgun, wincing sharply and realizing it was far too heavy to carry. Then the alopid looked at the railgun and swore softly.

“Styx?”

“Yo.”

“How many railguns did you see earlier?”

“Four.”

“How many anthros did you see carrying them?”

“Four.”

“What species were they?!”

“Calm down, calm down! Uhhh, alligator, some deer-thing, kangaroo and a chipmunk.”

“Wyatt and I killed the gator and cervine. Has anyone else killed a chipmunk or kangaroo since we’ve been here?”

Nobody responded.

“Has anyone found two other railguns in this facility?”

No response.

“ _Shit_ ,” Cale snarled over the earpiece. “We got two railguns unaccounted for. Everyone stay on alert until we find ‘em.”

“Understood. I see Wyatt and Stollar. Regrouping now,” Geoff responded.

Stollar looked to his right and watched as Geoff sprinted across the field of dirt and made his way towards the metal crates. However, when he looked at the attack helicopter again, he saw a faint blue glow.

“NO! GET D—”

Geoff’s head exploded. Stollar was blown backwards, his vision blurred by copious amounts of blood and fragments of flesh. He collapsed to the ground and began to cough, while Wyatt yelped as Geoff’s blood splattered against his body too. The headless hare fell to the ground, and Wyatt had enough time to see the silhouette of a kangaroo changing position. Before either of them could react, a hailstorm of bullets was fired at Wyatt and Stollar’s direction.

“GEOFF’S DOWN! GEOFF’S DOWN! WE’VE BEEN SPOTTED!” Wyatt shouted.

_______________________________________

“What happened?!” Cale asked.

“Railgunner took ‘im out! Kolson’s men are firing at us!”

Cale could hear the cacophony of plasma energy and bullets being fired over his earpiece. As he stood inside the warehouse next to Carlos, he heard a faint whirring noise and his ears twitched. Instinctively, he tackled Carlos to the floor, and seconds later, a high-pitched whine echoed in the felines’ ears. A magnificent beam of blue laser energy soared through multiple walls and windows with enough power to melt through steel. Had Carlos and Cale remained where they stood, their heads would’ve been immolated as well. Cale panted as he quickly got up and looked through a hole in the wall leading outside, where a chipmunk was holding a railgun. The chipmunk quickly relocated just as Cale fired, and soon afterwards, a cheetah wielding a shotgun stormed into the warehouse. Cale fired at her, but she quickly hid against a steel column, while Carlos noticed that someone was pointing a gun at them through the open skylight.

“TAKE COVER!” Carlos shouted.

The tiger fired at the skylight, the bullets ricocheting off the metal ceiling, while Cale huffed as he rushed towards the metal columns whilst firing at the cheetah. The cheetah was so concerned about not getting shot that she didn’t realize how close Cale was. When he finally reached her, he shot at her right footpaw, causing her to yelp and fall over. She aimed her shotgun at Cale, but the lion put two bullets between her eyes before he huffed and pressed his back against the column.

“We’ve been spotted too! Wyatt, Stollar, blow your charges once you’re ready!”

Stollar listened to Wyatt swearing as he shot at Kolson’s soldiers, taking down one of them. “We set some of them near the warehouse; we’re in the blast radius!”

“Caleb, Tony, give ‘em covering fire until they reach a safe location! And try to take out that railgunner!”

Cale heard another high-pitched whine. He immediately ran out into the open just as another laser blast soared through the walls, along with the same metal column Cale was just hiding behind. Sliding against the floor, Cale made his way towards one of the empty steel barrels and pressed his back into it, sweating profusely.

“What about you two?!” Stollar asked.

“We’ll be fine! We’ll regroup on the runway once we’re in the clear!”

Styx panted as he flapped his wings and flew over the warehouse and spotted two of the anthros who were near the skylight shooting at Cale and Carlos. “Wh-what d’you want me to do?!”

“FUCK SHIT UP!”

Cale could hear Styx whooping over the earpiece, to the point where his hollering almost overshadowed the gunfire.

“I AM GONNA PENETRATE YOUR ANUSES!” Styx shrieked.

Cale and Carlos started to run around the warehouse, panting and huffing as they dodged the gunfire from the skylight as well as the chipmunk who still had the railgun. Carlos heard the ear-piercing whine first, and quickly grabbed Cale’s head and shoved him down to the floor, while Carlos threw himself backwards, narrowly getting his midriff obliterated. The tiger saw another hole in the wall and got a brief glimpse of the chipmunk, but just as Carlos fired, the chipmunk hid again. Carlos swore just as he and Cale both stood up. Suddenly, the felines heard painful shrieks from the skylight, and moved out of the way when two anthros fell into the warehouse, their bodies messily splattering onto a pile of empty weapons’ crates. When Carlos and Cale examined the corpses, they noticed that their faces were dissolving and half of their bodies were smothered in rancid bile and acid.

“You’re welcome!” Styx said over the earpiece.

Another high-pitch whine. Another laser burst that nearly killed both felines. Frustrated, Carlos sprinted over to one of the holes in the walls, just in time for some of the apids to swoop into the building from the skylight. Thinking quickly, Cale switched over to his plasma handgun and began to fire at two of the giant hornets as he walked backwards. The plasma bullets pierced through their armor with ease, causing the apids to shout and holler as the plasma burned their flesh. Cale heard a series of automatic gunfire, but he saw small green, plasma-enriched pellets soaring his way, and knew that the apids were equipped with either assault rifles or submachine guns with the same kind of ammunition. Cale saw an open window and grunted as he ran towards it, firing at the apids as he sprinted. He threw himself outside, yowling again when another laser blast singed part of his tail. As Cale sat on the ground, he charged up his plasma pistol by pressing his finger on the trigger and pointed his pistol upwards. One of the apids curiously looked outside, gurgling in a foreign language. And then he stuck his head outside.

Cale fired, and shut his eyes and turned away when the apid’s head exploded, sending blood and flesh onto his body. The lion stood back up, knowing the apid’s partner wasn’t far behind, and pointed his gun back into the warehouse. He spotted the apid immediately and shot him in his arms, causing him to drop his assault rifle. Then he fired at the apid’s chest and abdomen twice, and the giant hornet howled and fell to the floor, no longer moving. Cale jumped back into the warehouse, and screamed when another blast from the railgun nearly struck him. He ran across the floor and picked up the plasma assault rifle, while Carlos spotted the other apid’s weapon and picked it up as well. He examined the glowing red and purple weapon that looked oddly similar to a Remington shotgun.

“Plasma pellets?” Carlos asked.

Carlos blinked as he gripped the plasma shotgun and heard another loud-pitched whine beside the wall across the room. Carlos threw himself onto the floor and dodged the shot, but then he pointed his shotgun at the new hole in the wall and fired three times. The plasma bullets broke through the weak foundation, and someone outside cried out in pain. Snorting, Carlos got up and peered through the hole, where he saw the chipmunk standing outside, bleeding from his sides and struggling to reload the railgun. Carlos stuck the shotgun outside, aimed, and fired at the chipmunk. He heard the body fall, just in time for more apids to arrive.

“Third railgunner down!” Carlos shouted.

“Is the runway clear yet?!” Cale asked.

________________________________________

“S’a fat-ass no, kitty!” Styx shouted, just as he dodged another stream of bullets.

The blue chirop panted as he flew around the skies, trying to distract the enemy without also getting himself killed in the process. He could see Stollar and Wyatt taking out more of Kolson’s men, but the apids still kept them pinned down. Squinting, Styx swooped down towards two apids who were advancing to the duo’s location and vomited up acid onto both of them. The acid quickly ate away at their armor, and continued to corrode their flesh, causing them both to frantically scream in pain. Before Styx could sneer at them, he screamed when laser fire almost tore his right wing off. The chirop spotted where the beam of laser energy came from and headed straight for it.

“Motherfucker almost took off my fuckin’—C’MERE!”

The kangaroo hiding near the helicopters had just finished reloading when Styx grabbed him with his left foot. The kangaroo dropped the railgun and started to shriek, jolting his body around as Styx ascended. Using his right foot, Styx snarled and started to slice the marsupial’s clothing with his claws. He kept dragging his claws against the kangaroo’s throat, chest, and stomach, angrily swiping them downwards like a cat lashing at a predator with its claws. The kangaroo stopped screaming and started gurgling and moaning, his midriff now a horrific mess as Styx kept tearing into him, spilling out his intestines. Then he opened up his left foot and let the kangaroo fall down, knowing he wouldn’t get back up.

“Last railgunner down!” Styx announced.

When Styx got back down towards the runway, he noticed that three anthros were sprinting over towards the set of motorcycles parked near the forest. He could also see Cale and Carlos were outside and sprinting for the runway too.

“Uh, guys?! Motorbikes! CHECK THE MOTORBIKES!”

________________________________________

Stollar grunted when a bullet ricocheted near a set of barrels. He turned and spotted Kolson, a panther, and a koala bear all getting onto a motorcycle and turning on the engines. In only a matter of seconds, they were pulling off the runway and heading into the forest.

“GOD—COVER ME!” Stollar shouted.

Without putting any thought into what he was doing, Stollar stood up and sprinted for the motorcycles across the runway. He knew various anthros and apids were still shooting at him. He knew he was in danger. He knew a single stray bullet could kill him. But at this point, Stollar was both too frustrated and too unwavering to allow Kolson to get away, especially now. The panting alopid came across another one of Kolson’s anthros and mindlessly shot her to pieces, before Wyatt used the railgun he stole to kill an apid who was hovering not far from Stollar’s position. Once the apid fell to the ground, Stollar huffed as he dropped his regular handguns and stole the small, glowing red and purple submachine guns that fired off plasma rounds. He reached the motorcycles just as Carlos and Cale got closer to the choppers. They saw Stollar stopping by the bikes and regrouped with him first.

“Status!” Cale shouted.

“Kolson’s fucking getting away!” Stollar pointed at the tire tracks the three motorcycles left in the soil. “Want me to go after him?!”

Cale grunted when a few bullets whizzed past his head. Carlos unloaded a few shotgun blasts into the apid who was targeting them before snorting and noticing Wyatt, along with Caleb and Tony, were taking heavy fire.

“I’ll stay with Wyatt and the others, take out the remaining hostiles; there’s not many left!” Carlos shouted.

Cale got onto a motorbike and panted as he started to fiddle with the wires coming out of the ignition. At the same time, Stollar started to repeat his partner’s gesture, unhooking the plastic connector, removing a wire from his pocket, and setting the ends of the wire into two ports. Carlos observed the duo with confusion as they activated the motorcycle in under twenty seconds.

“How did y’all do that _that_ quickly?” Carlos inquired.

“Experience,” Cale said.

“Experience?”

“Yes.”

“So you two just walk around carrying a spare wire in your pockets—”

“SHUT UP!” Cale and Stollar shouted simultaneously.

Carlos shut his mouth.

“Stollar, destroy that spaceship! Carlos, you and your soldiers take out the rest of the hostiles! I’m going after Kolson!”

Cale revved the motorcycle’s engine and promptly started to drive off into the forest, following the trail that Kolson and his goons left behind. Meanwhile, Carlos ran over to where Wyatt and the other mercenaries were taking fire and started to shoot at the apids. Just as Stollar started his bike, he heard a loud, ear-splitting whirring noise not much different from a jet’s engines. When Stollar looked at the spaceship’s wings, he witnessed the engines turning on.

“ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!” Stollar screeched.

The alopid screamed as he gunned the motorcycle forward and headed straight onto the runway, throwing himself right in the middle of the chaotic gun battle.

“STYX, ON ME! EVERYONE GIVE US COVERING FIRE!”

“Stollar, what the hell are you doing?!” Wyatt asked.

“I DON’T FUCKIN’ KNOW! JUST COVER ME!”

It wasn’t until Stollar was actually out in the middle of the runway that he realized how much of an idiot he was. People were firing at him from behind, from the sides, and the loading ramp for the spaceship was still lowered, revealing two apids inside armed with plasma assault rifles. Some of them were firing at Carlos and his team, while others were fixating solely on him, desperate to keep him from getting the cargo. Stollar felt the humid wind rushing against his face as he kept driving forward, the spaceship’s engines gaining more power before finally taking off. Stollar screeched again as he drove with one hand and used his other to fire one of his plasma submachine guns. He gritted his teeth as he fired inside of the spaceship, taking down both of the apids and damaging the switch that activated the loading ramp, causing it to stay permanently open. Stollar was firing so many bullets that he forgot said weapons could overheat. The gun crackled and turned bright red in his hand, emitting some static. He yowled in pain and dropped the gun, and nearly lost control of his bike as well.

“Attack helicopter’s prepping for takeoff!”

“OH FOR FUCK’S SAKE!” Stollar shouted.

Stollar couldn’t take it. His heart felt like it was about to explode. His head was pounding, like someone was constantly striking him with a hammer. And his body was under so much pressure that he didn’t know how to make it all go away. Stollar heard wings flapping as the spaceship kept ascending and saw Styx flying above him.

“Stay above me! Put your legs down!”

“What?!”

“PUT YOUR LEGS DOWN! Everyone else, get your detonators ready!”

Stollar looked into the sky. More apids were chasing after Styx. The spaceship was still moving. The runway was getting close to ending. Panting, Stollar looked up at Styx’s right foot and gestured for the bat to lower it.

“Ready?! READY?!”

“We’re out the blast radius!” Carlos responded.

“NOW!”

It all happened so fast, and yet the world seemed to slow down for Stollar. He pulled out his detonator and set off the charges he placed. Immediately afterwards, the alopid reached up and grabbed Styx’s right leg. He knew his heart was about to explode. He embraced it. He knew his head was pounding. He ignored it. He knew his body was undergoing far too much pressure. So he released it all, and Stollar’s body felt lighter. The second Stollar finished pressing the detonator, he spun his body around and pulled out the other plasma submachine gun he had acquired. As he began to aim, Stollar had a perfect view of the warehouse once it finally exploded. The interior of the building swelled with orange flames, before all the glass panes shattered, and the entire structure seemed to bloat outwards. All the bricks, concrete, and steel parts of the foundation were blown apart with a deafening explosion. As Stollar witnessed the destruction of the warehouse, the helicopters and planes that had C-4 blocks on them also detonated. What used to be small aerial vehicles turned into miniature fireballs that sent propeller blades, fragments of steel, and glass all across the ground.

The attack chopper was just making its way towards Stollar when it burst into flames mid-air. The entire vehicle seemed to split in half, with the blades spinning off and lobbing themselves into the soil. As the attack chopper began to descend, Styx huffed and flapped his wings as hard as he could, getting closer to the rising spaceship. Stollar gripped his submachine gun and fired at the two apids who were following him and Styx, making sure to stop every few seconds so the gun wouldn’t overheat in his hand. Both of the apids shouted and spiraled out of control after Stollar shot at their wings and burned through various portions of their armor. Stollar breathed heavily as the wind rushed against his face, and the roaring sound of the spaceship’s engine nearly tore through his eardrums.

“I’M GONNA SWING YOU IN THE BACK! YOU READY?!” Styx screamed over the engine.

“WHAT?!”

“TAKE OUT THE GUARDS! IMMA SWING YOU IN!”

Stollar still couldn’t make out what the bat was saying, but when Styx flew up towards the loading platform of the spaceship, he spotted two apids crouched down inside carrying plasma rifles. The alopid swore as a hailstorm of bullets were exchanged between the three individuals, with Styx weaving to his left and right just to avoid the burning bullets. When the firing stopped, Stollar looked inside the ship’s cargo hold and saw that both apids were down. Suddenly, Stollar’s body began to sway, and he looked up at Styx with shock.

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!”

“I TOLD YOU! I’M GONNA SWING—OH, FUCK IT!”

Styx swung his leg back and forth, causing Stollar to move like a pendulum. Then Styx opened up his foot and tossed Stollar’s body forward. The short alien shrieked as his body flipped through the air, and for a moment, he thought that he was gonna fall all the way back down to the planet’s surface. But then Stollar heard a metallic thud, and his body stopped moving. Stollar whimpered and panted as he lied face down on the floor of the ship. His body shook as he slowly stood up, while Styx entered the ship’s cargo hold and stood beside Stollar.

“WHEW! Hot damn, that was some intense shit back there!”

Stollar gasped a few times before wiping sweat from his brow. “We’re not done! We gotta blow up the ship, destroy all this pathogen once and for all!”

Styx sniffed the air a few times. “Aye! The sooner, the better! Goddamn apids stink something fierce…”

Stollar took a few steps forward while Styx remained where he was. The alopid stopped moving when Styx broke out into a fit of uncontrollable laughter, prompting Stollar to sigh indignantly.

“The hell is so funny _now_?”

“Hehehe, so ‘bout that ‘intense shit’ comment…”

Stollar sniffed the air himself and scowled. He noticed his pants were unusually warm, and remembered how he released “pressure” from his body as he leaped off the motorcycle. Stollar nervously grasped the seat of his pants. And then he heard something squish.

_Cale is never going to shut up about this_ , Stollar thought.

_________________________________________________

It was tougher than he thought it’d be. Chasing after someone on a speeding motorcycle seemed simple. In theory. But now that Cale was actually doing it, he noticed how deadly it was traveling over sixty miles per hour in a rainforest with no protective gear on. The lion lost count of how many insects got into his mane and eyes, and more uncomfortably, his nostrils and mouth. Already his vision was blurred from the insects, soil, and ash that got into his eyes. He huffed as he lifted his right arm and hastily wiped his face, and then shouted and swerved to the left when he nearly hit a tree.

“CALE! STATUS UPDATE!” Stollar shouted into the earpiece.

Cale spat and shook his head. “I’M STILL CHAS—ACK!”

The feline started to cough violently after a very large insect flew into his mouth and went straight down his esophagus. He slowed down his motorcycle just so he could keep himself steady before shaking his head and inhaling deeply.

“MAINTANING RADIO SILENCE ‘TIL I GET KOLSON!”

The lion exhaled and sped back up, following the tire tracks without much difficulty. He only had to drive for another three minutes, occasionally taking smooth turns to avoid steep inclines and giant caves that led to dead ends before he spotted Kolson and the koala bear and panther. There was no point in shooting at Kolson; even if he popped a tire, if his motorcycle went out of control, he’d be killed or put in a coma. So Cale gritted his teeth as he aimed for the goat’s cohorts, first shooting at the koala bear. None of the bullets were able to connect with the ursine or his motorbike, and Cale swore as he lowered his plasma pistol and paid more attention to where he was driving. The koala, meanwhile, looked over his shoulder once he noticed he was being followed. He slowed down slightly so he could take out his submachine gun, and immediately fired backwards while looking at Cale.

“SHIT!”

Cale yowled as he swerved to his left, almost hitting a giant rotten log and feeling his vehicle vibrating as he drove over a series of stones and rocks. The koala kept firing, determined to kill his pursuer by any means necessary.

“Kully! KULLY, LOOK OUT!” Kolson shouted.

Cale didn’t have to lift a finger; the rainforest did his job for him. Kully cared more about trying to eliminate Cale, and less about the road in front of him, which was rife with fallen trees. Kully’s motorcycle slammed right into one, sending the koala bear flipping around through the air as his gun flew from his paws. He let out a sharp yelp as his body smacked against a thick tree so hard that Cale heard the bones in Kully’s body snap, and he saw a faint glimpse of the ursine’s body bending at an angle. Cale turned away from the accident and kept chasing after Kolson and the panther. He started to get closer to his targets when Kolson swerved directly into Cale’s path and revved his bike’s engine. A wave of dirt and grass was sent flying backwards, and Cale spluttered and gagged as the soil ended up blinding him. He forced himself to slow down and eventually stop, not wanting to risk getting into an accident like Kully. The lion spat and blew his nose repeatedly before he wiped his eyes and huffed. His vision was finally clear, but by then, the panther and goat had gone.

Cale didn’t panic though. Even though he lost both targets, they still left a long series of skid marks in the soil, so it was very easy for Cale to follow their path. He drove around for thirty seconds and descended down a steep hill, where he arrived in a moist, humid area filled with mushrooms, green grass, and exotic, ripened fruits. Just as Cale reached the bottom of the hill, he noticed the tire tracks had stopped, and both motorcycles had been abandoned. The lion immediately stopped his bike and shut off the engine before he got off and started to take deep breaths. Cale looked around in the rainforest, listening to some of the insects buzzing and a few exotic creatures squawking in the trees before he heard grass rustling. On instinct, he sprinted to his left, and ducked when he heard automatic gunfire just a few yards behind him. The lion quickly slid down into a ditch and laid face down, hoping the grass and trees would conceal his body.

He waited very patiently. His targets would come to him; they’d have to, just to confirm that they actually slew Cale. And sure enough, Cale could hear trademark footsteps in the distance, a series of footpaws flattening grass and a few insects buzzing as they moved away from giant entities. Cale quietly sniffled and shook a worm off of his left paw before he noticed a shadow to his right. One of the two anthros growled deeply, and he paused as he started to scan his environment.

“I saw him go down, boss. We should head—”

“I don’t care, Joey. We’re not leaving until we find his body,” Kolson barked.

Cale kept looking up and spotted part of a panther’s tail edging towards the ditch he was hiding in. The feline named Joey began to turn, and Cale knew he wouldn’t be able to hide anymore. Cale rose from the ground with lightning speed, slicing at Joey’s right paw with his claws. Joey screamed and fired multiple times, but Cale made sure to keep the panther’s paw jerked downwards, so the bullets only hit the ground.

“JOEY!” Kolson shouted.

Kolson could see both felines, but he couldn’t take a proper shot without hitting Joey by mistake. Cale and Joey tussled for a moment, but it didn’t last long. The lion kneed Joey in the crotch and sliced at his right paw, before digging his claws deep into the panther’s flesh and dragging his claws upwards along the arm. After Joey yowled again, Cale immediately took him hostage, wrapping one arm around his throat while pressing his plasma gun against his spine.

“Drop your guns,” Cale growled.

The goat stared at Joey and Cale and sniffed. “What makes you think I give a shit about him?”

“Your ‘partner,’ Gobor? Had him in the exact same position as you about a week ago. He wasted very little time blowing his own man’s brains out. You would’ve killed _both_ of us by now if you truly didn’t care about this anthro. So drop your damn guns.”

Kolson took a long breath before he slowly began to drop his submachine gun.

“No. Empty the clip.”

Kolson grumbled as he ejected the clip from the submachine gun and kicked it away. Then he dug into his back pockets and removed two handguns. The goat removed both magazines from those guns as well.

“Bullet in the chambers.”

“Fuck’s sake,” Kolson snarled, before he raised both guns and fired off a single shot from both of them. Then the goat tossed the weapons in the dirt and huffed.

“Release my man.”

Cale nodded and shoved Joey forward. The panther blinked and mumbled, his entire right arm bleeding profusely. Joey only managed to take four steps before he stumbled and shuddered. Kolson swore and rushed over to the panther, catching him before he could fall in the dirt.

“Fuck, fuck, stay-stay with me. C’mon Joey, what—”

“Too late, boss…I’m sorry…”

Kolson stared at Joey’s right arm and realized why he was so weak. Cale had sliced open the brachial artery. The goat held Joey for a moment as the panther’s eyes began to close, and then he looked over at Cale as he approached the goat still wielding his plasma pistol.

“You son of a bitch,” Kolson snarled.

“Get up. We’re heading back.”

Kolson huffed as he looked at Joey’s body and let go. He slowly stood up and raised his hands, eyes watering.

“You didn’t have to kill him. …You didn’t have to kill _any_ of ‘em,” Kolson murmured.

“They had guns. They were shooting at me. I shot back.” Cale shrugged. “S’how it is.”

“S’that simple, is it?”

“Yes. Go get your bike. You’re driving. Not taking the chance of you trying to choke me out while we head back.”

“How do you know—”

“You won’t try anything. You’ve nothing left. We destroyed your base. We took out most of your personnel. We’ve blown up the cache of pathogen canisters. It’s over.”

Kolson opened his mouth.

“There’s nothing left to say. You lost. I won. You wanna kill me, or try to run away? Go ahead. I’m sure your employer can find you a lot quicker than I was able to find you. And I’m sure he’ll be _far_ less merciful than I’m being right now.”

Kolson shut his mouth. He shook his head and blinked away the tears in his eyes before sniffling and lowering his hands. There was nothing else he could do. At this point, he’d be safer in a jail cell than being a fugitive and trying to outrun the Baron and his personal squadron of mercenaries and assassins. So Kolson just turned to his left and began to walk away, with Cale following him from behind.

“Bike’s this way,” Kolson murmured with contempt.

“Good.” Cale switched his earpiece back on and huffed. “Kolson’s bagged. Stollar, you finished on your end?”

____________________________________________________

“Just gimme another minute,” Stollar said, as he pointed his plasma weapon at an apid’s mouth.

The apid snarled viciously at Stollar and spat spitefully at the alopid, getting part of his submachine gun wet. He started swearing in an alien language before Stollar shot the beast, blowing off his mandibles. When Stollar stood back up, the panting alien looked at the spaceship’s cockpit, examining hundreds of blinking lights, levers, buttons and switches that all operated the spaceship’s engines, wings, and other sorts of facilities. Styx sucked on his teeth for a moment as he gazed at the assortment of buttons.

“Oh gee…hmm, now which buttons will make this giant ship land?” Styx asked.

Stollar and Styx looked at each other and smirked. Then both creatures sabotaged the controls with brute force; Styx vomited acid onto the controls on the right side of the ship, while Stollar unloaded several plasma bullets into the controls on the left side of the cockpit. Both of them backed away as several sparks began to fly, and they frowned when the sparks crackled onto the floor, and a small fire broke out.

“Fuck. Um…we might’ve overdone it,” Styx mumbled.

Stollar didn’t say anything else. He turned around and ran down a set of stairs before pushing open a giant metal door leading into a wide-open area of the spaceship that looked like an atrium. Various apid bodies were scattered about, many of which had corroded due to Styx’s acidic bile. The duo sprinted past all of the bodies and took a sharp right. As they sprinted down the metal corridor with doors leading to storage areas, the duo heard alarms blaring as red lights began to flash. The entire spaceship groaned, and Stollar and Styx heard what sounded like muffled explosions. Panting, Stollar reached the cargo hold of the ship and opened the armored double doors leading into the area. Feeling the spaceship turning and dipping, Stollar quickly placed his last charge of C-4 against a pallet of the pathogen canisters before he and Styx sprinted for the open loading ramp. Styx jumped out first and began to flap his wings, while Stollar leaped forward and latched onto the chirop’s feet again. Styx shouted as he was hauled downwards by the alopid’s weight, and he let himself descend as the spaceship started to nosedive. When they were only a few yards above the canopy of the forest, Styx turned around and stared lovingly at the apid spacecraft as it began to explode in various areas.

“Wanna finish it off?” Styx asked.

Using one hand, Stollar took out his detonator and activated his C-4. Both creatures heard a deep boom, followed by several muffled explosions. The rear section of the ship burst into multiple explosions, sending orange flames all over the place. The explosions created a chain reaction, and both creatures had a beautiful view of the apid spaceship exploding in mid-air, the giant ship breaking apart into six giant chunks of flaming metal that began to descend into the rainforest. Styx whooped joyously as he allowed himself to float to the ground, while Stollar just grinned with satisfaction. Stollar let go of Styx’s leg and grunted as he landed on his feet, while Styx finally settled down and took a huge breath.

“Cale…it’s done,” Stollar said through the earpiece. “The ship’s destroyed, and so’s the pathogen.”

“Wonderful. Head back to the warehouse; we’ll regroup there.”

Styx couldn’t help but giggle again. “Best day,” he said, before chuckling wildly. “BEST! DAY! EVER!”

_______________________________________

Kolson and Cale arrived at the ruins of Kolson’s compound. Some of the buildings were still intact, namely the hangers. But most of the vehicles had been sabotaged or were destroyed from the C-4 charges. As soon as Kolson shut off his bike, Cale bashed him across his skull, knocking him off the bike and sending him to the ground, unconscious. Cale took a huge breath of relief as he gazed at the facility and saw nothing but ruins. Wyatt and Carlos were busy inspecting some of the weapons left behind in one of the cargo trucks when they saw Cale and greeted him.

“So. Mission accomplished?” Wyatt asked.

“Yeah,” Cale said, exhaling deeply. “Got Kolson, pathogen’s destroyed, hundreds of millions of people I don’t know can live for another eighty years or so.”

“You sound _so_ joyful.”

“You should see me at parties. I’m a professional when it comes to playing wind instruments.”

Wyatt raised his eyebrow with confusion as Cale smirked. Carlos remained stoic and wiped some dirt off his muzzle.

“We’ll be going now. Our contract is done,” said the tiger.

Cale blinked. “That’s it?”

“Yes. Gregory was killed, as well as Caleb and Tony when they were providing cover fire for your partner.”

“I thought his name was Geoff?”

Carlos blinked and ignored him. “I shall contact the client, tell him to pay extra to cover for my loses.”

“Mm. Perhaps we’ll be able to work together again in the future.”

“Perhaps you will be able to conduct operations like these more meticulously in the future.”

Cale narrowed his eyes as he stared at Carlos. The white tiger turned and began to walk away, while Wyatt awkwardly scratched the back of his head.

“Uh, I’ll catch up in a minute, Carlos!” Wyatt shouted, before turning to look at Cale.

“I’ve said it before, but your partner is an asshole,” Cale snarled.

“He knows. He doesn’t care. Job got completed, so he’s ‘happy’ as far as I know.”

“Whatever.”

“Listen, um…” Wyatt sniffed. “Your partner told me a few things. About your illness, that kind of stuff…told me you were gay too.”

Cale growled gutturally. “No.”

Wyatt held up his paws defensively. “Oh, no, no, no, no, no—I didn’t—not-not like that! That’s not what I meant! I’m just saying…you-you know.”

“ _No_.”

The Saint Bernard huffed. “Stollar said for a while you guys didn’t talk. Not until recently. I’m not asking you to fuck me. I’m…”

Wyatt self-consciously folded his arms and tucked his tail between his legs. “Cale, you’re not the only one who’s seen some fucked-up shit. You’re not the only one who’s _done_ some fucked-up shit. I just…sometimes it’s easier to talk to someone else who knows exactly what you’ve been through.”

“Right. Well, we…between our jobs and everything, I’m not sure…”

Cale pondered for a moment before huffing. _Fuck it_ , he thought. _I’m gonna be dead next year. Won’t hurt to make another friend_.

“Gimme your number,” the lion stated.

The anthros quickly exchanged their cell phone and FCD numbers to each other before Wyatt exhaled and smiled.

“Okay! So, glad that went well. Maybe one day we could meet up and talk and shit.”

“When we’re not busy.”

“Right…right,” Wyatt said, sounding a bit discouraged.

Cale noticed the enthusiasm draining from the dog’s voice and wagged his tail. “But it’ll be sooner than later. I can say that much.”

“Okay. That’d be nice…it’d be nice talking to someone other than _Carlos_ for a change.”

The Saint Bernard waved at Cale as he turned around and began to walk down the same path that the white tiger took. “See you later then!” Wyatt shouted.

After nodding, Cale watched as the two mercenaries headed over to one of the vehicles that wasn’t destroyed and got inside. As they began to drive off, Cale walked towards one of the transport trucks and looked inside the bed. He pulled out various crates holding weapons inside of them and sifted through them, smirking when he stumbled upon a box full of plasma assault rifles and pistols. As he closed the crate, Cale heard wings flapping in the distance and saw Styx and Stollar returning, with the alopid latched onto Styx’s left foot and struggling to maintain his grip. He let go once Styx was close to the ground, and the chirop landed right beside the alopid.

“Did you enjoy fucking shit up?” Cale bluntly asked.

“YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS!” Styx hissed.

“Good.”

Stollar pointed behind his back and said, “Guessing that’s Kolson on the ground back there?”

“Affirmative,” Cale answered. “And this crate right here has plasma weapons in them, so we don’t have to worry ‘bout the Rottili Family trying to kill us.”

“Good. …I mean, not good, but we just saved about a billion innocents, so I’m feeling pretty damn good about myself.”

“Yeah, been real good on my end too!” Styx interjected. “Haven’t had this much fun in my entire life! We should really do this again—and soon! Betcha there’s lots more criminals out there we can mutilate for our pleasure!”

Cale grumbled. “We’ll contact you if we need your ‘services’ again. I assume you want to be compensated?”

“Pssh! You kidding? I should be paying _you_ for allowing me to join in on all the fun!”

Styx hopped off the ground and flapped his giant wings. As he began his ascent, he looked down at the duo and shouted out, “S’been a pleasure working with you guys!” before he turned and flew away from the destruction of the warehouse. After Styx began to disappear into the dark sky, Cale sniffed the air a few times as Stollar sighed with relief.

“So…it all worked out. After we take Kolson to Schrader’s Station, maybe we can interrogate him—”

“The fuck is that smell?”

Stollar blinked before looking at the corpses. “Uhhhhh, there’s a buncha bodies around here. Some of ‘em prolly voided their bowels.”

Cale leaned down and sniffed around Stollar. “That smell’s coming from you, Stollar.”

“Uhhhhhhhh,” Stollar scratched the back of his head and snickered. “Prob-probably stepped in chirop dung! I’ll wipe it off before—”

Cale shoved Stollar forward so he could quickly lean over and look at the seat of the alopid’s trousers. He spotted the stains and lumps very quickly, and Stollar started to blush. The alien looked up at Cale’s face and watched as his stoic expression very slowly turned into a devilish, smug grin with all of his teeth showing.

“You shut up,” Stollar said, pointing at the lion. “You shut the fuck up. You shut the fuck up right now!”

“Didn’t say nothin’.”

“Shut up!”

Cale shrugged, still grinning. “I wasn’t going—”

“SHUT UP!”

The lion chuckled as he lifted a paw and patted Stollar on his left shoulder comfortingly. “S’okay buddy. I got some spare diapers in my closet.”

“I hate you.”

“I know you do,” Cale said, still grinning.

________________________________________________

Cale slid the plate across the lunchroom table. He and Stollar, along with a handcuffed Kolson, were back on Cale’s spaceship and heading for Schrader’s Space Station. While Stollar was busy getting some rest after he showered and changed his clothes, Cale decided now was the best time to get the goat talking. Still clad in his filthy camouflage clothes, the lion sat down across from Kolson, while the wounded goat looked at the plate, examining the crumbly slices of white cheese and an assortment of circular crackers. The goat sniffed the cheese before glaring at Cale.

“Was this seriously made from goat milk?”

“You wanna eat the food or not?”

Kolson blinked. And then he slowly placed a slice of cheese onto a cracker before shoving it into his mouth and chewing slowly. Cale reached over and got his own slice of cheese and a cracker, chewing noisily as some crumbs flew from his mouth.

“So you’re the last guy,” Cale said, before swallowing, “on the list before the Baron himself. And considering that you were in charge of his smuggling operations, I’m guessing he trusted you the most.”

“Yes.”

“So you know all about the Baron’s activities then?”

“No. I just smuggled shit. Had no part in whatever Dr. Oblingor, Milz, or Gobor did.”

“But you know what the Baron does.”

Kolson exhaled and shook his head. “No. I can’t snitch. Baron’s prolly gonna kill me already for botching this whole deal. Not to mention how Commander Maynard will respond…”

“…Commander-fucking-Maynard is your client?”

Kolson nodded. “Milz and I protested at first. Gobor and Dr. Oblingor knew Maynard would become a threat later. We tried to double-cross Maynard; we were gonna have some of the pathogen blow up in his face and kill him. But he found out about it…eh. Fuck’s it matter? You stopped me. You destroyed the pathogen.” Kolson shrugged. “Not much else to say.”

“Lot more to say actually. Where’s the Baron? What’s his real name?”

Kolson shook his head. “No. You’ve caught me. Least _you_ can do is answer a few questions _I_ got. Like how the fuck you found me to begin with.”

“Former associate of yours gave you up. Big tortoise named Franz?”

“That’s a lie. Franz would—”

“He retired. Your business is no longer his problem. And bourbon and sex can make _anyone_ chatty. All my ex had to do was yank down my pants and massage my balls and I’d be his personal servant all night.”

Kolson stammered. “Franz couldn’t…I trust—” The goat shut his eyes and huffed. “Goddamn it…this entire time Baron said we should’ve killed him. I just…I’m not one who—”

“Treats his employees like shit?”

“Yeah, y’know? If everyone you work with is miserable because of _you_ , they’re gonna betray your ass or quit. I’m surprised you got to Gobor before his own cops killed him. …Fuckin’ Franz, lowering his guard like that.”

“Yeah. Real shame.” Cale coughed and sniffled. “So, the Baron?”

Kolson set more cheese onto a cracker and stuffed it into his mouth. “Gyver’s City. Financial District. Giant tower overlooking most of the city. The five heads usually held our meetings there in the Baron’s office.”

“And he’s there right now?”

The goat swallowed and said, “Most likely. Whenever he’s not supervising operations or having meetings with potential clients, he’s in that tower. And since you’ve essentially ruined _all_ of our major organizations, I doubt the Baron’s doing much of anything besides twiddling his thumbs with anxiety.”

Cale paused. “There’s no catch. He’s in this tower?”

“Yeah.”

Cale and Kolson stared at each other for several seconds before Kolson reached up and scratched around his horns, his handcuffs clinking as he moved them.

“I know when I’m beaten. I’m not a sore loser. I’m not married. I’m not in a relationship. And my entire crew is dead. And chances are I will be too. Why would I lie to you about this? If anything, if you catch the Baron in time, maybe I’ll be able to actually live through my upcoming prison sentence.”

Cale narrowed his eyes before he leaned back on his stool and folded his arms. “Huh.”

“Is there a problem?”

“No. That _is_ the problem. You’re not even gonna try to fool me? You’re not even…even gonna spout curse words at me?”

Kolson groaned as he rubbed his eyes. “There have been times where I have gone an entire week without sleeping. I…I spent so much of my life always trying to push myself harder than I need to, always trying to be the best, and then excelling further than that. I stopped drinking water altogether; I can only drink coffee and other beverages full of caffeine.”

The goat stared at Cale, and the bounty hunter noticed how red his eyes were. “I don’t have enough strength left in me anymore…I’m just so fuckin’ tired. That’s the one upside to all of this. I can _finally_ settle down, even if I’m doing so in some musty prison cell.”

“Interesting…you’re not like the others.”

“Whatcha mean?”

“I mean even Milz Dillvor told me she started killing people simply because she was good at it. But you seem…more level-headed. It-it’s baffling me, honestly.”

Kolson shrugged. “Can’t change how I feel. Or how you feel.”

“Lemme ask you something: why’d you start doing this? If this job was stressing you out this much and making you so exhausted, why do it?”

“Why do _you_ do what you do? I know you were with the Strikers. I know you’re dying. Why bother wasting what little life you got left catching people like me? I don’t understand why you haven’t followed Franz’s footsteps and retired yet.”

“My ex-boyfriend got me into bounty hunting after I left the military. ‘Fore I met him, I spent most of my time drinking at bars. Figured I spent enough of my life hurting or inadvertently getting innocent people killed. Least I could do is spend my life trying to help society instead of destroying it for personal gain.”

“Oh. So instead of killing people, now you only kill _bad_ people.”

“Yup.”

“So that’s all I am? You just see another bad person?”

“I see a mirror, Kolson. There ain’t no difference ‘tween us. We’re just people doing our jobs the best we can. You ran a smuggling ring. I’m a bounty hunter. You get rewarded for doing your job efficiently, as do I. And sometimes, you have really shitty days. Sometimes you come across a situation that could mean the end of your career, and you have to choose how to handle the situation when it arises. The only thing separating us is that the way I handled my situation worked in my favor. It didn’t work in yours.”

Cale wiped some dirt from his mane before sighing. “If I’m being honest here? I feel like all the shit that’s happened to me in the past decade or so…maybe it was supposed to happen. Maybe this…”

Cale closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He felt a sudden pain in his chest again but chose to ignore it. When he opened his eyes back up, he leaned forward and got another cracker with cheese on top of it.

“Your turn,” Cale said, before cramming the cracker in his mouth.

Kolson licked his lips. “It’s simple really. I worked at a grocery store for five years. Like you, I was just a guy doing his job. I didn’t kiss anyone’s ass; I didn’t work overtime. I just did my job very well. Never got a promotion, though. Everyone loved me. Everyone said I deserved a promotion, but I never got it. Eventually I decided to quit. And, uh, a week later, I went back to the store to buy some produce, and I come across my old manager. I greet him like we’re best friends, since we always talked to each other when we were coworkers. So, when I say hi to this anthro, you wanna know what he says to me?”

“What?”

“‘Who are you again?’”

Kolson stopped talking for a while. Cale kept staring at him and couldn’t tell if his eyes had gotten redder because of how tired he was, or because he was about to start crying. The goat moved his paws around the table slowly before exhaling.

“My name. Five…five goddamn years…and this asshole couldn’t even remember my fuckin’ name. Heh…s’okay though…s’all right. Few weeks later, an old friend of mine gets sprung from prison, tells me to come with him during a ‘deal.’ I do. One thing leads to another, and I have to smuggle some ‘package’ into another city. I get paid a thousand dollars. So I say, ‘hey, this is easy money. I can take the risk of doing it again.’ So I do it again. And again, and again, and again. After a few months, some drug dealer comes by and says, ‘Lotta noise goin’ on ‘bout you, Kolson. Wanna come work for me?’ I say yes. This goes on for about a year. Then someone within a drug cartel comes by and says, ‘Hey, been hearin’ lotsa shit ‘bout you, Kolson! You work with us, we’ve give you your own spot, your own crew!’ So I say yes.”

Kolson paused and sucked on his teeth. “This kept repeating over and over and over again, until the Baron comes along and says, ‘Many of my business partners can’t stop bragging about your excellent distributing and smuggling operations. You work with me, and I’ll put you at the head of this galaxy’s most well-known syndicate.’ Obviously, I say yes.”

The goat sniffed as he picked up some cheese and consumed it by itself. “Names. I always remembered my employees’ names. Every single person in this galaxy matters, and they need to be treated as such. …Maybe that’s why I’m not so upset right now. Almost everyone in the criminal underworld knows who I am, knows what I’ve done. I’ve been doing this for many years now; I’ve gotten everything I wanted. Sure…I’m going to prison, but at least people will always know who I am.”

Cale grunted and rubbed his forehead, sighing. “It’s always disconcerting when I talk to people like you. I expect to run into people like Gobor Grizzer a lot, but every now and again I find someone like you, someone who’s—”

“Not a lunatic frothing at the mouth and trying to indiscriminately rape and kill everyone around them?”

“Precisely. And it just…it doesn’t…doesn’t ‘fit’ your lifestyle.”

Kolson shrugged. “You’re the good guy. I’m the bad guy. You don’t understand why people do bad things.”

“No, mm-mm. We’re _both_ bad guys. So when I hear that another fellow ‘bad guy’ went down the path he chose for a perfectly understandable reason, I don’t…mm.”

“If this kind of thing unnerves you so much, why ask these questions?”

Cale huffed and pinched the bridge of his muzzle. “Maybe I’m just curious…maybe I’m just lonely and need someone to talk to.”

The lion didn’t feel like continuing the conversation any longer, so he stood up and gestured for Kolson to get up as well. Afterwards, Cale guided Kolson over to the secluded room he always kept his prisoners in and opened up the door. Kolson smiled when he saw that there was a mattress inside, and he walked in without hesitation.

“I’ll wake you up when we’re at Schrader’s Station,” Cale said.

“Okay.”

“Don’t try anything either.”

“Heh, relax. I’ll be unconscious in about ninety seconds.”

Cale smirked to himself before he pushed the button on the wall near the door. The automatic door slid shut before locking, and Cale groaned as he rubbed his head and dragged his tired footpaws into his bedroom. Once he got inside, Cale shut and locked his door, and the panting lion felt his chest flaring up again. He tried to walk towards his bed, but with each step he took, his legs seemed to stiffen. The lion whimpered as he stood beside his bed, but his legs refused to move. He looked down at them and saw them wobble slightly, and Cale groaned when his tibias felt like they snapped in half. Like a tree chopped in its center, Cale toppled over, shouting when he banged his head against the corner of his nightstand.

Cale Tomlik landed on the floor with a heavy thud, unconscious and bleeding from his forehead.


	17. The Relaxation

_“SHUT UP!” Cale bellowed, as he tossed the glass bottle against the wall._

_The lion was livid, huffing like a wild, feral animal as he stared at the snow leopard in the lunchroom of the spaceship. Keevonu took a few deep breaths as he looked at the glass shards on the floor._

_“Cale, please just settle down!” Drake pleaded._

_“Oh right, sure. Yeah. I should go into my bedroom and take my fuckin’ pills! I should go sit on my fuckin’ ass while you spoon-feed me like some kitten! I should go—”_

_“STOP! Stop trying to turn everything I do into something vile! I’m the only person here who’s been helping you this entire time; the least you could do is be grateful for sticking with you for this long!”_

_“Tch! Right…right. ‘Grateful.’ That’s why I only see you once or twice a week now. That’s why we never talk about anything anymore. We never spend time together; we never watch television together; never go out sightseeing or discovering new planets! You just gimme my pills and make sure I haven’t shat myself and then you go spend time in one of the other rooms! What’s wrong with me, Drake?! What the fuck have I done for you to treat me this way?!”_

_“Fuck you, Cale! You can’t keep doing this! You can’t keep standing there acting like a fuckin’ victim just because you’re dying! You’re not the only one dealing with this bullshit! You think I enjoy comin’ home from my bounties and finding you on the floor sobbing or passed out in your own bile?!”_

_“If you care so damn much about me, then how come you’re never here?”_

_“Because I can’t stand seeing you like this!” Drake shouted, his voice cracking. “Because I’m tired of coming back to this ship and praying I don’t find you dead on the floor! Because everytime we see each other now, you find some bullshit reason to argue with me and to attack me! Stop attacking the one person who’s helping you and then whining like a little bitch when that same person wants to stay away from you afterwards!”_

_Cale scoffed as he took a huge breath and rubbed his forehead. “So you’re saying you care more about your job than you do your boyfriend. Apparently it’s easier for you to spend your time around vicious murderers and rapists—”_

_“YOU’RE DOING IT AGAIN!” Drake screamed. “When the fuck is this gonna get through your head, Cale?!”_

_The lion sniffled and rubbed his nose. “It’s already in my head, Drake. Why you treat me this way, why we’ve grown distant—all of that shit. I thought me getting sick would strengthen our bond, but no. It’s just driving us apart. This whole ordeal has done nothing but show that all you ever cared about was your own career and your own well-being. I was never anything to you except an asset. And now that I’m weak and nothing but a hindrance, you think it’s okay to just leave me, to let me rot away and die alone!”_

_“Cale, where the fuck is all of this coming from? Why is it so goddamn hard for you to understand that I love you?!”_

_“Because you don’t.”_

_Drake stared at Cale and felt his left eye twitching a bit. He didn’t know whether or not he should knock out Cale’s teeth or to try and make him understand how wrong he was. And at the same time, Drake started to ask himself why he should even continue to care._

_“…What?”_

_“You don’t love me, Drake. You just needed a partner for your job. You just needed someone to worship you, someone to talk to so you don’t get lonely, and someone to cuddle you in bed and fuck you whenever you get aroused. And now that I’m ‘useless’ to you, you see no point in staying with me anymore.”_

_It wasn’t until after Cale said those words that he realized he screwed up. He saw in Keevonu’s face how the snow leopard looked less frustrated and angry and more resigned and apathetic to the lion’s words. Drake didn’t explode at Cale or start screaming at the top of his lungs. He just took a long breath and sucked on his teeth._

_“You’re right, Cale…you’re right. I don’t love you. Even though I…I’ve taken care of you this entire time…even though I got you involved in this career, and stopped you from drinking yourself to death. Even though I was the one person who accepted who you are, despite all the shit we’ve done. Yes, Cale…I-I don’t love you.”_

_“Wait…wait, Drake, I-I didn’t mean for it—”_

_“And since I don’t love you, there’s no reason for me to stay here, is there?”_

_“Drake, just-just wait a second.” Cale swallowed as he walked over to Drake and put a paw on his shoulder. “Let’s not do anything—”_

_Drake roughly slapped Cale’s paw away and took a few steps back. He let out a shuddering breath before turning around and stomping into one of the separate, smaller bedrooms away from Cale’s personal room. Cale chased after Drake for a moment and tried to stop the snow leopard, but Drake quickly went inside and slid the door shut before locking it. Cale sobbed lightly before he knocked on the door a few times and huffed twice._

_“Open the door. We both…we both said shit we don’t mean. We’ll get over it; open the door.”_

_Drake didn’t say anything, prompting Cale to bang his fist on the door several times._

_“Drake! We can still make this work; just open the damn door!”_

_Drake still didn’t do anything. Cale huffed several times as his right eye watered. The lion moaned as he felt the energy slowly fading from his body. He slid down to the floor and whimpered as he sat down, knowing full well what he did was permanent, and he couldn’t fix any of the damage._

_“Drake…please…”_

_Cale reached out and lightly ran his claws against the door, listening to them scraping noisily._

_“Drake…”_

_The whimpering lion kept running his claws against the door._

______________________________________________

And then he reached up and opened the cabinet’s door. Cale exhaled and sniffled as he slowly reached inside and removed the photo of himself and Keevonu standing inside of the park. He shut the cabinet slowly before grunting and tossing the photo onto his mattress. Cale winced as he reached up and grabbed his head, already feeling a lump forming just above his right eye. The lion swore quietly as he rolled over and grasped his bedsheets, struggling to pull himself onto the bed. His claws tore into the fabric and ripped part of it, causing Cale to swear again as he lied on the floor. He shut his eyes and moaned to himself, unable to feel anything below his waist. Inhaling sharply, Cale lifted his arms and pressed his paws against his mattress, huffing as he started to drag his heavy body up onto the soft bed. His legs slid against the floor, still hanging limply, before Cale grunted again and slowly pulled his way onto his bed, causing the mattress to creak and squeak. Once he was fully on the bed, he rolled onto his back and exhaled, looking up at the ceiling.

Shortly afterwards, Cale slid his paw against the bed and grabbed his photo. He held it above his face and exhaled as he stared at it, still trying to remember all the precious moments he had with Drake. But as the lion gazed at the photo, his eye began to water, and he felt tears running down the side of his face. Unable to say anything at all, Cale curled up on the bed and pressed the photo close to his chest, shutting his eyes and hoping that he’d have more comforting dreams and memories to calm his nerves. But when Cale fell asleep, everything went dark, and he couldn’t remember a single thing his subconscious formed. It wasn’t until a few hours later when he heard someone knocking on his bedroom door that the lion’s eyes shot open, and he woke up.

“Hey, Cale, you busy?”

Cale didn’t say anything. He set the photo down before sitting up and slowly placing his footpaws on the floor. He didn’t realize until after he was wiggling his toes that the feeling in his legs was back. Cale looked down at his legs and footpaws before he huffed with relief and covered his eyes with his paws.

_Goddamn_ , he thought. _Swear I thought I’d have…_

Cale didn’t dare finish his thought. He just stood up and started to walk towards the door, limping and wincing with each footstep he took. Once he reached the door, he pressed the button on the wall beside it and listened to it whoosh open. Stollar was standing on the other side.

“Hey. Didn’t interrupt nothing, did I?”

Cale shook his head. “I’m fine. Was just sleeping earlier.”

Stollar looked up at Cale’s forehead and spotted the bruise. “Damn. S’a nasty bump you got there!”

Cale reached up and rubbed the discolored spot on his head. “It’s nothing. Musta gotten it back at Kolson’s warehouse what with all that shit goin’ on.”

“Uh-huh.” Stollar blinked. “Sure.”

Stollar kept staring at Cale, as if he knew that the lion was hiding something. So Cale chose to disregard his more paramount dilemma and confessed another personal problem he was dealing with.

“Was…I was thinking about Keevonu again. About the night we broke up. S’just…I-I thought I’d be past it by now.”

Stollar scoffed. “Told myself that after I got raped. Look how that turned out.”

“S’why I’m telling you now. I’m still struggling. Just wish shit like this got easier, not harder…”

“I know.” Stollar backed away and sniffed. “I’ll leave you alone. Sorry to disturb you.”

“No, no, it’s all right. I’m okay though. Just need some time, that’s all.”

Stollar smiled, and Cale couldn’t tell if he was forcing it or not. “All right,” he said. “I’ll let you know when we’re back at the station.”

“Kay.”

Cale shut his bedroom door and sat back down on his bed. He thought about what he said a second ago, about how he needed some more time.

And that was the one thing he was running out of.

________________________________________________

Cale and Stollar stood in the restaurant, listening to some of the cars passing by on the street outside. Standing on the opposite end of a wide brown table was Rellis Rottili and three of his guards, all of whom were armed with typical submachine guns. Resting on the table was the giant crate Stollar and Cale stole from Kolson’s compound, which had been pried open. Rellis giggled mischievously as he took out a wide, double-barreled shotgun that was glowing dark green and had a secondary firing button.

“See that button right there, little switch on the left side near the trigger?” Cale asked.

Rellis snorted as he looked at the switch. “Yeah, what about it?”

“You shoot someone with that switch turned on, the plasma shells turn into sticky grenades. Works well in a fight with armored or hard-shelled aliens; shoot ‘em and the pellets will cling to their bodies, and then explode after a few seconds.”

“But I can use these on _regular_ anthros too, yeah?”

Cale huffed. “Yes, you can use explosive plasma pellets on regular anthros.”

Rellis grinned before he took the cigar out of his mouth and blew out a huge cloud of smoke. “Then we have a deal,” the obese rat said, as he set the shotgun down into the crate.

Stollar casually removed his handgun from his pants and switched the safety off. The rat guards noticed what the alopid was doing and glared at him.

“This the part where y’all betray us and kill us while evilly taunting how foolish we are?”

Rellis laughed as he closed up the giant rectangular crate and put the cigar back in his mouth. “Oh no, _no_! Far from it in fact! I’m a rat of my word—ain’t that right, Cale?”

Cale just grumbled and looked away.

“‘Sides, you two are the ones who got rid of that asshole Grizzer. And you’ve basically dismantled one of my primary competitors now that Kolson’s in jail. _And_ you kept your word, and gave me all these fine weapons. I should kiss the both of you!”

“Please do not incorporate your disgusting mouth with ours,” Stollar said, grimacing.

Rellis winked teasingly as Stollar and blew out more smoke, while two of the rat’s guards picked up the case and began to carry it towards the restaurant’s exit. The thick rat grunted as he straightened out the red tie and wiped some ash off his stained white suit.

“Pleasure doing business with the two of ya!”

“You just tell your brothers not to shoot their footpaws off with those guns,” Cale warned.

“No worries. I’ll just shoot ‘em off for ‘em!”

Rellis chortled to himself as he and his third guard walked outside of the building, his thick tail dragging against the linoleum-paved floor. Once the rat was out of the restaurant, Stollar put his weapon back into his pocket and sniffled.

“What happens when the Rottilis uses those weapons to shoot up an amusement park, like those anthros did several years back?” Stollar asked.

“They won’t do that.”

“How do you know?”

“They’re smart.”

“Mm. Good point. Still not comfortable knowing we gave a mob boss fifteen plasma guns though.”

Stollar leaned against the table and shrugged. “I guess that’s just how it goes though, huh?”

“Catching small fish is pointless and a waste of time and resources. We’ll wait until Rellis and his brothers get fatter.”

Stollar raised an eyebrow.

“Figuratively speaking.”

“Right. So, what now? Baross said it’d be about twenty-four hours before the IGPA is ready to take down the Baron with us. Shouldn’t we push him to try and get the Baron now?”

“No. I tried that already with the other four heads. Only reason why we didn’t fuck up our mission catching Kolson was because we had help. And even then, three of Carlos’ guys got killed.”

“Like he gave a shit,” Stollar said crossly.

“Point is, let’s give Baross whatever time he needs ‘fore we storm the Baron’s compound.”

“But what are we gonna do until then? I think I’m fine skipping out on watching more _Cleaning Up the Kingdom’s Mess_ for right now.”

“But the next arc in that series has an orc villain who makes his cronies shit themselves.”

Stollar glared at Cale’s smug grin.

“Okay, all right. We’ll do something else. Um…you know what?”

Cale took out his cell phone and dialed someone’s number. He sniffled and put the phone up to his ear before waiting as he listened to a series of dial tones.

“Hey, Wyatt. Yeah, I’m calling…was just wondering where you live at. No, no one’s holding a gun to my head and trying to make me give up your location. …No, this isn’t work related. This is just…um…” Cale nervously rubbed his muzzle. “I’ve been…having some problems lately. Was just wondering if we could do something together, that’s all. Maybe take my mind off a few things.”

Cale waited for Wyatt to finish speaking before he smiled to himself and said, “All right then. I’ll be there in a few hours.”

The lion hung up his cell phone and slid it back into his pants. “You fancy goin’ to Wormill Central?”

“What’s over in Wormill’s capital?”

“Lotta shit. Museums. National Park. Subway system. Usual crap. ‘Sides, Wormill isn’t far from Sarloss. Anything bad happens, it won’t take us too long to reach the tower in Gyver’s City.”

“All right. We’ve earned a shit-ton of money over the past few weeks. Least we can do is spend it!”

__________________________________

Wormill Central seemed a bit more technically-advanced compared to some of the other cities that Cale and Stollar had been to. The overall skyline of the city was the same: skyscrapers dwarfing the much smaller, less popular shops and buildings. Giant billboards showed off exuberant characters with massive logos designed to catch everyone’s eyes, and to boost the creators’ egos. None of the vehicles were designed to fly or hover, but it wasn’t uncommon for anyone to look up and spot various jets flying over the city. Wormill Central’s primary feature seemed to be its fixation on robots and cyborgs, as Cale and Stollar noted when they first entered the city. Every so often, Cale and Stollar looked up around a populated area and would see a circular blue disk hovering above the crowd. It had a large, yellow light in the center of its body, and said light would occasionally blink, as if it were some kind of eyeball. It didn’t take long for the duo to deduce that said hovering robots were obviously sentries designed to act as patrolling units that would contact the police or even stop crimes themselves if they noticed anything was out of order.

The circular robots weren’t the only robots in the city either. As Cale and Stollar walked away from the spaceship port, they noticed robots of all shapes and sizes walking around like normal civilians, some of whom didn’t seem all that different from Cale or Stollar. The duo walked past a bookstore with slightly tinted windows and saw a skinny, green robot with a cylindrical head and metal spikes going down its back buying a dozen books before presumably thanking the cashier afterwards. When they looked up at some of the billboards, they noticed a red robot clad in some kind of makeshift suit smiling widely with his metal mouth open and a microphone in his left hand. Scribbled above the robot’s head were the words “MOTOR MOUTHS,” which Cale assumed was some kind of talk show involving robots and cyborgs. The duo stopped examining the scenery around them for a moment and stood near a four-way intersection, which had a bus stop where ten creatures of different sizes and proportions were sitting down waiting impatiently. Cale straightened out his open light gray cargo vest and wiped some dirt off his matching shorts before looking down at his partner.

“Where to first?” Stollar asked. “They got that comedy club near the train station where cyborgs tell jokes about robots.”

“‘D’ya hear the joke about the robot who got arrested for sexual molestation?’”

“‘They chopped him up and turned him into a metal dildo. Now he can legally get as much ass as he wants!’”

Cale couldn’t help but laugh as he listened to his partner’s punchline. “ _Damn_. Thought you were gonna say something like, ‘Course not. We ain’t got ears!’”

“I think your crassness rubbed off on me a bit.”

Cale grinned and folded his arms. “Did it now?”

“Shut up. You know what I meant.”

“Sure.” Cale cleared his throat and lowered his arms. “You know what though? Why don’t we split up this time? I don’t wanna hold you back from doing anything you wanna do. Obviously we have different interests, and obviously I’m not a fan of titty bars.”

“Males have titties too.”

“Okay, not the point. I just think we should, you know…have some breathing room this time.”

“What if one of us gets in trouble?”

Cale blinked. “Did you _seriously_ just ask that?”

Stollar paused and scratched around his ears. “Yeah, we’ve done a buncha shit that would normally get a regular person killed by this point.”

“Precisely. We’ll be fine. Let’s say we…meet up back at the port around eleven, maybe midnight? Sounds reasonable, yeah?”

“I guess. You sure we shouldn’t stay with each other?”

“Positive. Go get your dick wet,” Cale said, smirking.

Stollar grinned and showed off all of his teeth. Even the ones that had been pulled out a few weeks ago were beginning to grow back.

“Go get your dick brown.”

Cale didn’t bother denying it. He just chuckled at his partner before winking at him. Afterwards, Stollar turned and went in his own direction, while Cale went his.

________________________________________

Wormill National Park didn’t seem much different from several other parks Cale had ventured to. He found himself walking through the park with several, humongous trees overshadowing the concrete paths for civilians to walk upon. Given how massive the branches were, the deciduous trees’ green leaves were blocking out most of the sun’s rays, giving most of the civilians shade and keeping them cool from the heat. Nevertheless, the park was still very humid, and Cale could feel the moisture within his fur and around his mane. He moved around the tiny black fences lined up against the concrete paths before walking over a stone bridge. The lion grunted when he stepped on an ice cream cone, shivering softly when he felt the freezing dairy product oozing around his toes and felt some of the crunchy waffle cone sticking to his footpaw. He spotted a puddle nearby and stepped into it, wiggling his toes and grinding his footpaw around the water. It wasn’t until he looked down that he remembered he could still feel how warm the water was. Cale blinked and wiggled his toes again, smiling and chuckling as the wet sensation spread around his soles.

“Hehehe, yer too old t’be splashing puddles, mista!”

Cale turned to his left and saw a kitten licking chocolate ice cream and dressed in shorts and a T-shirt with the logo of a dinosaur on the front of it. Cale smirked at the kitten before wagging his tail.

“Yer too young to be in this park by yourself. Where’s your mother, little one?”

Someone rushed over to the kitten and grabbed his left paw. “She’s right here,” said the kitten’s mother, a tall cinnamon-furred Persian cat wearing shorts and a long blouse.

Before the kitten could say anything else, his mother started to drag him away from Cale, scolding him for talking to strangers. Maybe she didn’t want her kitten to get kidnapped. Maybe she saw Cale’s tattoo and immediately assumed he was dangerous. Cale just shrugged and continued walking.

_Least she cares about her child enough to protect him_ , Cale thought.

Cale resumed his journey through the park, sliding his paws into his pockets and absorbing the scenery around him. He could feel more of the warm wind blowing against his face with every few steps he took. The calming scent of fresh wood and mangoes started to fill the lion’s lungs, and he started to wonder if the trees in the park grew fruit. The bitter but recognizable scent of various nuts filled his lungs too, and Cale turned to his left and spotted a cyborg who was selling a bag of mixed nuts to a group of children being watched over by an adult. More cyborgs jogged past Cale, and the lion had to stop once he stared at them. Their bodies looked just like regular anthros; one was a lizard, the other one a bull. As Cale stood at a four-way intersection, a giant cyborg polar bear walked along the same path. The lion kept staring at the beast, examining his blue and silver body. Everything from his head all the way down to his footpaws was composed of some kind of metal or armor. And since many cyborgs didn’t wear clothing, Cale could see every inch of the ursine.

It was like looking at the muscular anatomy of a human being or an anthro. Cale saw how burly the arms and legs were, and the blue metallic segments looked bloated, like the muscles from a bodybuilder. His claws and toe claws were black, as were the fingers and jaw. His stomach was chunky and blue, making the bear look fat. Most curiously was the area between the cyborg’s thighs. Cale thought that none of the cyborgs had any form of sexual anatomy, but he noticed that the bear’s groin was protected by a metal plate that looked oddly like a football cup, or even the front of a jockstrap. When the cyborg walked past Cale, the lion turned and looked at the cyborg’s back, before staring down at his incredibly wide rump. Even as the cyborg walked, Cale noticed his buttocks almost jiggled with each step he took.

_Could I stick—no, don’t even. He’s a cyborg; it’ll hurt_ , Cale told himself.

“You got a problem?”

Cale looked up and blinked. The cyborg polar bear stomped over to Cale, his big metal footpaws pounding into the earth, his glowing yellow eyes glaring down at the chubby lion.

“Just admiring your craftsmanship is all!”

“You were staring at my ass,” the polar bear snarled, his voice robotic and deep. “Kinda thing could get you arrested in other cities.”

“Then perhaps you shouldn’t flaunt it about.”

The cyborg scoffed and smirked at the lion. “Okay, smart-ass. What were you ‘admiring’ about me, then?”

“Just…I don’t usually see _full_ cyborgs. There’s some kind of flesh still intact, but I’ve been here for only a couple hours and I’ve seen dozens of cyborgs like you.”

“Hmm.” The polar bear reached out and offered a paw. Cale shook it with his right paw, and the polar bear squeezed harder than he needed to. Cale didn’t react in the slightest.

“What’re you doing?”

“Thought so. Arm is cybernetic. Left eye is too; it’s slightly discolored.”

“Trust me; the rest of my body is real. …How well are your senses and other functions?”

The cyborg leaned close to Cale and flared his nostrils a couple of times. He scowled and backed away.

“They’re hyper, unfortunately. I can smell that you’ve been perspiring a bit. I can smell that you haven’t washed that outfit for some time. And I can smell how foul your breath is.”

_Fuck’s sake. Even cyborgs know I got halitosis. Awesome_ , Cale thought.

“Forgot to brush this morning,” Cale lied. “It happens.”

“Your gums are rotting. Mouth smells like carrion, not typical morning breath. And it seems like you showered some hours ago; traces of bodily musk are faint. …Smells like your paws—”

Cale started to raise his right footpaw.

“If you pass gas in front of me, I will rip off your tail,” the cyborg snarled.

Cale lowered his footpaw and smirked. “So…them other senses?”

“I can touch items and feel them. I can hear very well. And my optic implants allow me to see, provided they aren’t damaged. No difference from regular anthros, really.”

“Uh-huh. So what about eating?”

“This city makes…‘food’ for us to eat. But, erm, tofu isn’t meat, if you catch my drift.”

“Damn. That sucks. Hmm…so about _this_ …”

Cale reached down and pointed at his crotch. The polar bear grinned at Cale.

“Some cyborgs are built…special. And they come with parts…very _erotic_ parts.”

“Good to know.”

The cyborg suddenly growled and curled his mechanical fingers. “Why you asking all this? You opting for a surgery or something?”

“No,” Cale said, truthfully. “Was just curious—”

“About how sentient I am.”

Cale blinked and looked away, while the polar bear exhaled.

“S’okay. I don’t blame you. I wonder that myself sometimes. Fabrication is so easy nowadays…hmph. Suppose talking about existentialism won’t do us any good now, will it?”

“No. We are what we are. Just have to deal with it.”

The polar bear nodded. “Correct. Was nice chatting with you though. See you later.”

“Heh, nah. You’ll smell me later.”

Cale turned around and quickly started to walk away, just as the polar bear heard what was clearly flatulence being expelled.

“What—” The polar bear sniffed the air and immediately covered his nose with a paw, while Cale started to jog away.

“YOU PIECE OF SHIT!”

_________________________________________________

Cale figured it was time to eat after he caught the scent of frankfurters being sold within the park. But since he didn’t feel like eating from a vendor, the lion decided to head for one of the nearby restaurants instead. He came across an eatery known as “Moloch’s Meats”—a name that made Cale raise his eyebrow—and stepped inside. Once he was in the restaurant, the feline was overwhelmed with enough fragrances that made his mouth water instantly. Sausage was being fried in skillets; racks of lamb meat were visible for everyone to see as they were roasting over a controlled flame; entire chickens were sitting inside giant ovens and being cooked rotisserie style; veal was being chopped into several chunks and was getting mixed into a stir fry over an open grill. The restaurant itself was very spacious, with a high ceiling that stretched several meters and had a few skylights open to keep the rooms ventilated. Everyone sat down in booths or in open chairs, eating their meals with utensils or using their bare paws or hands, depending on what they ordered. From the look of all the guests, most of the civilians were muscular or chubby—or both. If anything, Cale thought Moloch’s Meats catered to bodybuilders and people on a high protein diet. The lion stopped drooling and sniffed as he approached the main greeting station.

“Welcome to Moloch’s Meats,” said a brawny, burly figure.

Cale stared at the oversized bull with a nose ring clad in an open black vest, blue T-shirt, and trousers.

“You dining in or picking up an order?”

“Dining in,” Cale responded.

The bull snorted. “Follow me.”

Cale followed the giant bull as he led him over to a booth in the corner of the restaurant. Shortly afterwards, he grunted as he took out a pencil and notepad.

“Ready to order now or later?”

“I’ll just get a pineapple Fizz Punch for now.”

“Kay.”

Cale glanced at the appetizers on the front of the menu and blinked. “Actually, hold on. Are these the appetizers or main courses? I’m seeing lots of burgers and BLTs here.”

“Appetizers. Moloch’s Meats is for those with _grand_ appetites. It isn’t uncommon for a regular to order the seventy-two-ounce steak as an entrée and ask for seconds.”

“All right, screw it. I’ll get the triple-decker cheeseburger. With lamb meat.”

“No problem,” the bull said, scribbling down Cale’s appetizer order. “I’ll be back later for the entrée.”

Cale waited for about three minutes before a different waiter arrived carrying the Fizz Punch in a glass. He took the glass from the waiter and drank from it a few times before he looked through the entrées on the menu. The bull showed up not long after, holding the notepad again.

“Ready to order?”

“Yeah, I’ll get the Dragon Ribs, the Wicked Wings, and the um…the Flamed Fillet.”

The bull paused and stared at Cale. “Will other people be joining you?”

“No, this is all for me.”

“Mm. Well, sir, the Dragon Ribs are smothered in poblano sauce.”

“I know.”

“Mm. Sir, the Wicked Wings are smothered in habanero hot sauce.”

“I know.”

“And the Flamed Fillet is seasoned with ghost pepper sriracha sauce.”

“I know.”

“Do you have a heart condition?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have stomach problems?”

“Yes.”

“Are you sure you want to order _all_ of this?”

“Absolutely.”

“Sir, we only have two bathrooms. The hospital is ten miles away. And we do not offer free disposable underwear to our patrons. And if you make a mess on the floor, you’re cleaning it up.”

“I am fully aware of what you are telling me.”

The bull took a long breath and wrote down Cale’s order. “All right then, if that’s what you want.”

Cale handed the server his menu as he relaxed in his booth and waited for the appetizer to show up. He drank more of the pineapple Fizz Punch, tasting the sweet pineapple juices and feeling the carbonated beverage bubbling and fizzing inside of his mouth. The lion belched noisily after setting his glass down on the table and wiped his chin, shortly before the triple-cheeseburger arrived at his table. Cale felt his stomach grumbling and licked his choppers as he stared at the greasy burger composed of juicy lamb meat, bacon stripes between each patty, and three different slices of cheese on a sesame seed bun. Seconds later, the lion reached down and picked up the cheeseburger, biting into it and chewing noisily, letting the heat from the meat fill his mouth and taking in the texture of how tender the lamb meat was, and how much the bacon crunched in his mouth. All the flavors blended in with the sweetness from the buns, and Cale could taste the creamy cheese that was melted to the point where some of it was dripping from the burger. He kept biting and devouring the meaty burger, swallowing with thick gulps and occasionally licking his fingers whenever cheese dripped onto them.

The lion belched and wiped his mouth multiple times as he ate his appetizer, not stopping until the entire cheeseburger was down in his stomach. When he finished, he chugged the rest of his Fizz Punch and burped again before sighing. Another fifteen minutes later, the server arrived with all three meals that were steaming hot. Cale gazed at the hot wings first, looking at the chicken that was smothered in habanero sauce, giving the chicken a bright orange hue to them. The ribs were large and thick, having been grilled over a charcoal-heated griller, and they had the greenish poblano sauce spread across the center of them. And the giant steak fillet was cooked medium, looking dark brown on the outside with a series of swirls from the ghost pepper sriracha sauce spread around the beef. Cale found himself drooling again and stopped himself by asking for a refill on his beverage. When the server went away, Cale ravenously tore into his meal, biting into two chicken wings and cleaning the meat from them in under a minute. It wasn’t until after he swallowed the meat that the heat started to get to him, and Cale found himself panting and drooling, his mouth scorched.

Cale couldn’t help but laugh, embracing the fuming sensation within his maw. He stopped eating the wings after consuming five of them and switched over to the ribs instead, where he picked up the massive slab of meat and started biting the flesh off the bone. Sauce dripped down his lip, and he tasted the poblano peppers that had been ground into the mixture, making the ribs have a spicy and partially sweet flavor to them. Similar to the wings, he cleaned all the meat off one bone in only a minute before dropping the rib bone and feeling his eyes watering and his mouth burning even further. Cale had to stop as he pounded a fist to his chest twice before letting out another ear-splitting belch and shaking his head, with saliva flowing from his mouth. He thought other people would’ve been annoyed by his burping, but it seemed like other patrons had the same type of manners, and Cale even heard a few people passing gas every so often. Cale drank a good portion of his Fizz Punch—which only worsened the heat because of the carbonation—before picking up the Flame Fillet with his bare paws and biting into it. 

Cale didn’t seem to mind the ghost pepper sriracha sauce; it only added a spicy, tangy flavor to the steak. All that mattered was how thick and juicy the steak itself was, with the warm flesh melting in his mouth and titillating all of his taste buds. He stared at the inside of the beef, looking at the reddish coloring of the meat before he bit into it again and chewed noisily. After swallowing a second time, Cale shut his eyes and felt a pang in his bowels. He leaned forward and passed gas, the flatulence crackling against the seat before he opened his eyes and coughed a few times. He placed a paw on his belly and looked down, grimacing when he felt his stomach bubbling.

“Suck it up,” Cale snarled, before biting into the steak again.

_______________________________________________

About forty minutes later, Cale panted as he walked out of the bathroom, sweating profusely and groaning, feeling like he just lost ten pounds. The lion’s legs shook as he walked out into the restaurant, feeling weak from his bowel movement. Cale slowly reached against the door and locked it, before he closed it. He spotted a janitor’s closet nearby and walked inside of it. When he came back out, he was holding a “Wet Floor” sign, which he promptly set in front of the door. Cale exhaled before he walked back into the closet and reemerged, this time holding an “Out of Order” sign, which he placed in front of the bathroom door. Cale exhaled, before walking into the closet a third time, and emerging with yellow tape that read “CRIME SCENE DO NOT CROSS” in massive bold letters. Cale nonchalantly unwound the roll of tape and stuck two strips of it against the door, creating a giant X formation. The bull who served Cale earlier spotted him and walked up to him.

“What the hell are you doing?” he asked.

“Warning the janitor,” was Cale’s response.

____________________________________

This wasn’t his usual scene, but Cale felt like he needed to come here anyway, since he rarely went to attractions such as this. The chubby bounty hunter found himself standing within an immaculate museum that didn’t have a speck of dirt on the floor, despite everyone being a barefooted anthro. Cale blinked as he looked around the building, gazing at the various white columns made out of marble that looked smoother than silk. The floors were made of linoleum, with a few green and brown rugs that spanned down the center of corridors and contained complex, exotic designs consisting of swirls and polka-dots. Security cameras were hanging over each exhibit, most of which were blocked off with velvet rope barriers, and a security guard standing by each one with folded arms. All the walls were painted a different color scheme, most of which were made to accentuate the themes of each painting or exhibit. Cale was surprised at how diverse the museum seemed to be once he looked at all the patrons. The museum wasn’t only for standard rich anthros—although Cale noticed a few posh beasts oozing with egotism here and there. Most of the patrons were just like him, regular museum-goers who had enough money to pay for a ticket and to view the pieces across the building.

The burly bounty hunter walked over to an exhibit with various hues of blue inside of it and came across a figure depicting a whale-like anthro that was sitting on an island. The whale seemed happy with the expression on its face, but Cale looked at the whale’s eyes and took note of how empty they seemed. He rumbled to himself before seeing another exhibit in the same area, where a fox was sitting around giant piles of moneybags that were all painted blue, but the fox itself was grasping its head, as if in a state of frustration. An antelope standing beside Cale scoffed and shook her head.

“Ain’t that the truth,” she murmured, before walking away.

Cale left the exhibit and went somewhere else, instead heading into a room with various paintings and hues of red on the walls. He skipped past most of the violent, overly-gory ones and instead stumbled upon one painting that just depicted an anthro smothered in brown muck and smiling as he gave a thumbs up. The painting was titled _Life’s Shit_. Cale shrugged and nodded.

“God, I don’t understand the appeal of these paintings,” said a buffalo standing beside Cale.

“Seems self-explanatory,” Cale responded.

“No, yeah, I get it. I just don’t understand why this artist used something _this_ crass and vile for a painting.”

“Then you don’t get it,” Cale responded, before walking towards a different painting.

The next painting Cale saw showed a feral reptile biting off the head of what appeared to be a baby primate of sorts, with the head in the process of being torn off, with all the blood in full view. Cale noticed the title was simply _Animal_ , and he also noticed that the spectacled caiman standing beside him was nervously rubbing his left arm.

“You okay?” Cale asked.

“Y-yeah, sure…just…I read a lotta history books, y’know? Found, um…found out interesting stuff. About _us_ , I mean. About creatures like us that used to populate Earth.”

“Mm.”

The caiman chuckled. “Good thing we’ve changed from them, huh?”

“No, we haven’t.”

Neither anthro said anything for a full minute. They just kept staring at the painting, until Cale eventually walked away and headed into another exhibit. The next exhibit he went into was mostly white, and had statues and busts inside of it, but one painting in particular stood out from the rest. Cale rushed over to it and stood in front of the velvet rope barrier. Three other anthros were standing and staring at the painting, and Cale could see why. The painting was nothing but a giant black square, but the other three anthros were squinting and leaning forward, while Cale stared blankly at it. When he looked at the title, he noticed the painting was called _Do You See It?_

“Maybe…maybe it’s supposed to be the universe? Maybe it’s like a metaphor or some shit like that?” said a male kangaroo.

“No, nah man! There’s like a tiny, tiny, _tiny_ blotch of gray paint in there…we just gotta find it,” said a male husky.

“Bullshit,” said a female squirrel who pushed her glasses up when they slid down her muzzle. “I’m betting this has a hidden image within the painting. Like one of those online image puzzles? It’s something called steganography; certain images can be viewed differently using different lights. So maybe—”

“It’s a black square,” Cale interrupted.

The other three anthros all looked at Cale, with the squirrel scoffing. “No, it’s not. It’s a painting with a hidden message in it.”

“No. Well, yes, but it’s a painting of a black square.”

“That can’t be,” the husky snarled. “No dumbass would make a random drawing of a blank black square for nothing. It doesn’t even seem like the artist provided different shades of black.”

“I’m telling you what I know. This is just a blank square…just endless black on black, nothing else…”

“But why would—”

“It’s a motherfucking black square,” Cale snarled, baring his teeth.

The trio all backed away from Cale after seeing the stern gaze in his eyes and could sense the ire he was emitting. When Cale noticed the anthros were terrified of his outburst, he slowly backed away from them and exhaled.

“Sorry, I’m…sorry.”

Cale walked away from the exhibit, and eventually exited the museum. The sun was starting to set outside, and the weather was becoming a bit cooler. Nevertheless, Cale couldn’t help but stand against a telephone pole, hyperventilating and feeling a slight pain in his chest. He wasn’t sure if it was from all the food he ate earlier or from the pathogen’s effects, but he felt like he couldn’t breathe. The lion quickly took out his medicine and dumped two pills in his mouth, swallowing hard before setting his bottle back in his pocket. Afterwards, he took out his cell phone and dialed Wyatt’s number again, sniffling and rubbing his nose.

“Hello?”

“Hey, Wyatt…s’me again.”

“So I noticed. Wassup? I thought you said it’d only take a few hours to get here?”

“It did. I was just preoccupied earlier. You busy? You, uh…you got some free time?”

“Yeah. Ain’t on a mission or anything. Still at the apartment. Wanna come over now?”

“Yeah, yeah, sure…I’d love that.”

“All right. See you soon then.”

Cale hung up his phone and huffed, knowing full well why he wanted to go see Wyatt.

________________________________________________

The lion knocked on Wyatt’s door a few times as he stood inside of the corridor of the apartment complex. He waited patiently and listened to the old building creaking before hearing muffled footsteps from inside. There was a pause, and then Wyatt opened the door.

“Hey Cale! Heh, damn, this was a lot sooner than I thought!”

Cale blinked. “Yes…can I come in?”

“Dunno. You should prolly ask In if he’s okay with bein’ a bottom.”

Cale glared at the Saint Bernard, while Wyatt just chuckled and wagged his tail.

“Yeah, yeah, you can come on in. Just give ‘im a towel afterwards!”

_Perverted. Dunno if I should be annoyed or aroused by that_ , thought Cale as he walked into Wyatt’s apartment.

After the canine closed the door, Cale looked around the apartment and blinked. He was disturbed at how empty the entire place was. The kitchen had nothing in it except for a single fridge, along with cabinets and a dishwasher that were already pre-installed into the apartment. The walls were completely bare, with various food, dust, and a few mold stains on them. There was a single couch and table in the living room, with a monitor on the wall on the opposite side of the couch. The dining room had nothing but one table and four chairs, two of which had lots of dust on them. Cale put his paws in his pockets and sniffed. The apartment smelled heavily of Wyatt’s musk and fried sausage, probably from a meal he had earlier.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Not too homely, is it?” Wyatt asked.

“Doable. You live alone. Same goes for me and my spaceship. Not much in it ‘sides me and the stuff in my bedroom. Plus the usual lunchroom and bathrooms.”

“Mm. I got some beers in the fridge if you want some.”

Cale shook his head. “Think I damaged my intestines enough already today.”

Wyatt exhaled and wagged his tail. “All right, that’s fine. So you, um…wanna take a walk?”

“Sure. We’ll go piss on some trees together.”

“Whatcha mean piss—oh, _fuck you_ ,” Wyatt growled, after seeing Cale’s smirk.

“We’ll be getting to that later.”

“Fuck you!”

Cale chuckled, taking much delight in irritating the Saint Bernard. He sniffled before taking a few steps around Wyatt’s apartment, causing the floor to creak.

“You want me to be direct and make it simple?”

“May as well. I get that from Carlos all the time.”

“All right.” Cale huffed. “Shortly after all that shit went down at Kolson’s warehouse, I couldn’t walk. I was fine, my footpaws were fine, nothing was sprained or broken. Suddenly, my legs get stiff, and then I can’t feel anything below the waist.”

Cale pointed at the lump on his forehead. “Fell down and banged my head against my nightstand.”

“Fuck,” Wyatt said softly, before shaking his head. “You go to the hospital?”

Cale shrugged. “They’ll just give me more pills on top of the ones I’m already taking right now.”

“Has this happened before?”

“No. That’s the problem. Started puking up blood about a week or so ago. Shat out blood too.”

“Geez,” Wyatt said, scowling.

“My doctor said that even if I have surgery…my body’s too damaged. I thought maybe I had more time…but then this shit with my legs happened. Maybe the pathogen has fully destroyed my organs. Maybe I’m too damn old. Maybe my body is just sick and tired of fighting it off.”

Cale looked down at the floor and shook his head solemnly. “It’s too late for me…”

“That’s not true. You’ve seen the cyborgs in this city. You can easily—”

“Absolutely not. I’m not becoming a cyborg.”

“Why not?”

Cale huffed. “Okay, maybe I’ll get cybernetic legs. At this rate, I’ll probably need them. Maybe I’ll get another cybernetic arm so my right one won’t be so lonely. Same with my eyes. And I’m sure they make synthetic hearts…synthetic livers, synthetic kidneys—hell, even synthetic brains. I’ll just…I’ll just trade it all, Wyatt. I’ll just give up my entire body so I can become a _thing_.”

Wyatt noticed that Cale’s voice was rising, and he backed away. “Look, cyborgs don’t work like that. They still have their memories. They can still feel and think and experience emotions just like any normal anthro.”

“But are their memories _their_ memories? How do they know if what they remember was real? How do they know if someone didn’t tamper with their memories and fabricate their past? How do they know someone isn’t controlling them to be a sleeper terrorist, one that activates with a literal flick of a switch?”

Wyatt didn’t respond. He folded his arms and looked down at the floor timidly, unsure of what to say.

“So you…you won’t do it. Even though becoming a cyborg could save your life, you won’t do it?”

“I’d rather die in a body I know than live in a body I don’t.”

Both anthros remained quiet for a while until Cale pressed his fingers against his eyes and swallowed.

“Sorry…shit, I barely even know you. Shouldn’t be dumping all this mess in your lap. Haven’t even told Stollar any of this.”

“No, I get it. I told you, s’just easier to talk to people who’ve been through shit like this.”

“You have a terminal illness?”

“No. I mean, I know what it’s like to fuck up my own life. My sister and I used to live with each other after our parents died. Always took care of each other, looked out for each other, blab blah blah. Then I meet Carlos. And I take up his offer to be a mercenary. My sister and I still cared for one another, but we weren’t always around as much. Anyway…one day we’re taking on a major terrorist. Says if we kill him, he’ll come after my family. Our mission was to kill the target, so—”

“Carlos killed him.”

Wyatt sucked on his teeth. “Yep. And then two assassins broke into my apartment, almost killed Dalia. She fought ‘em off—thankfully I thought her how to use weapons—but after the attack? She wanted nothing to do with me. We haven’t spoken in four years.”

“And you’re still working with Carlos.”

“Fantastic, right?”

Both of them paused again. They could hear some of the traffic outside in the city, and a few horns honking. But for the most part, the whole apartment was silent except for the anthros’ breathing. Cale stared at Wyatt, looking at his gray T-shirt that failed to cover part of his plump cream-colored belly before looking at his dark blue jeans. The feline inhaled deeply, taking in another huge dose of Wyatt’s musk, before he grumbled and looked at Wyatt’s open bedroom door.

“We should talk more in your bedroom,” he murmured.

“Um…bedroom?”

Cale nodded sheepishly, almost as if he was trying to stop himself from blushing. Wyatt blinked a few times before snorting.

“Okay then.”

Once the anthros finished talking, Wyatt led Cale over to his bedroom, which was just as barren as the rest of the apartment. No photos, no posters, no collection of films or TV series stored on disks. All that was inside the bedroom was a nightstand with a lamp on it, another monitor on the wall, and a bed. After Cale shut the door, Wyatt sniffed and scratched the back of his head.

“So whatcha wanna talk about?”

Cale kept staring at the dog’s body, sizing him up and staring at his burly arms and belly. He looked at Wyatt’s groin for a moment before grumbling and shaking his head.

“This was a mistake,” he said, turning around and walking towards the door.

“Mis—wait! Where you goin’?!”

“I fucked up, all right? I shouldn’t be here, not under these circumstances.”

“What ‘circumstances’ are those?”

“What do you _think_ , Wyatt? Why do you think I spontaneously decided to show up after all the shit that’s been happening to me?”

Wyatt stared at Cale and shrugged. “Least you can do is admit it.”

Cale snarled as he stared at Wyatt. “I came here to fuck you, all right? I came here because I…because I was thinking about my ex-boyfriend, about the one thing he wanted from me, the one thing he wanted me to do. I just thought if I came here I could…fuck it…fuck it. I came here to make _myself_ feel better. I’m sorry; I’ll just—I’ll go now.”

“Are you _really_ taking advantage of me if we both want the same thing?”

Cale was just about to reach for the doorknob when he stopped and looked at Wyatt. “What?”

“You really think I get any ass working with someone like Carlos? You really think I don’t get lonely living in an apartment like this?” The canine chuckled as he approached Cale and wagged his tail. “‘Sides, I was the one who wanted to fuck _you_ , remember? You damn near knocked my teeth out when I even hinted at that back in Markilia.”

“Thought you said you wanted to talk to someone who’s been through the same shit as you.”

“Oh, I do…I do. But, um…” Wyatt sheepishly chuckled. “I also wouldn’t mind if…well…if I saw _more_ of you.”

“Oh,” Cale said, before he took off his vest and let it fall to the floor. “You mean like this?”

Wyatt stared at Cale’s muscular arms and chest, along with his bulging gut that sagged past the waistline of his shorts. The lion smirked at Wyatt and walked over to him, while Wyatt blinked and took a few short breaths.

“I mean _more_ , Cale…”

“Only if you show me more of you.”

Wyatt snorted and smiled, shortly before he took off his shirt and tossed it on the floor. Cale noticed that Wyatt’s fur was ruffled and messy, and he smelled heavily of sweat. The dog breathed heavily in Cale’s face, while Cale reached forward and rubbed Wyatt’s smooth, thick stomach and chest. Wyatt quickly lifted his right arm and sniffed around his armpit before scowling.

“Mmf…prolly should shower ‘fore we do this.”

“No,” Cale said, before grinning. “I like it.”

Wyatt blinked. “You sure?”

Cale nodded, shortly before he reached over and started caressing Wyatt, rubbing his abdomen and chest as he breathed heavily and reached for his trousers. He undid his jeans and let them fall to the floor, before Cale pressed his body against the dog and groped him. The Saint Bernard did the same, feeling around Cale before zipping down his shorts and yanking down his trousers and boxers. With Cale fully naked, Wyatt growled as he ran his paws around Cale’s midriff, slowly sliding them down to his crotch. He used one paw to fondle Cale’s testicles, the other to squeeze his fairly large buttocks.

“Hey,” Wyatt started.

“Mm?”

“You don’t mind anal stuff, right?”

“Course not.”

“I mean…hardcore stuff?”

“Yes, Wyatt, I’ve always dreamed of someone farting on my face,” said Cale dryly.

“I can’t tell if you’re joking or not.”

Cale chuckled. “I’m aware.”

Wyatt grumbled, but soon calmed down when Cale took off the dog’s undergarments. Fully naked now, Wyatt slowly turned around and let Cale hug him from behind; Cale pressed his body against Wyatt’s spine and his shaft against the canine’s fat buttocks. Cale shut his eyes and exhaled, tenderly wrapping his arms around Wyatt and running his paws against his groin.

“Floor,” Wyatt said, panting.

“Mm?”

“Lie down.”

Cale raised an eyebrow, but obeyed his wishes anyway. After he lied down, Wyatt moved backwards and stood over Cale, giving the lion a better view of his rump.

“Wyatt…whatcha doin’?”

“You said you like anal stuff.”

“Yeah, but you—MMF!”

Wyatt slowly sat down, planting his chunky rump on top of Cale’s muzzle. The dog grinned as he sat on Cale’s face, while the lion let out a few muffled mumbles. He took a few deep breaths, taking in the potent stink and musk of Wyatt’s posterior, the pheromones rushing into his lungs. Wyatt looked down at Cale’s crotch and could see that the lion was becoming erect. Seconds later, Wyatt shivered and blushed as Cale began to mumble and slurp, sounding like a wild animal trying to lap up water. The Saint Bernard arched his back and gasped several times as he felt Cale’s tongue repeatedly grazing his tailhole and moistening it. Cale moaned as he placed his paws on Wyatt’s fat bottom, still performing anilingus as he relished in the masculine odors. Satisfied, Wyatt teased Cale by getting up from his face and heading over to his bed. Cale huffed and sat up, looking at Wyatt as he lied flat on his belly and winked at him. Growling, Cale followed him, climbing on top of the bed and making it squeak from all the weight. The lion drooled and panted as he pressed his paws against Wyatt’s shaggy back, making the dog moan.

“You don’t have to be gentle,” Wyatt whispered.

“Didn’t plan on it,” Cale snarled.

It wasn’t long before Cale started thrusting into Wyatt. All the guilt and frustration from earlier was replaced with nothing but lust and ecstasy. He didn’t care about his mission, or about his deteriorating health, or even about his former boyfriend. After all this time he was finally having sex with someone else on his own volition.

And it felt damn good.

Cale went slow at first, letting the smells in the room fill his lungs as sweat started to form on their bodies. But then he went faster, thrusting into Wyatt’s anus several times over as pre-ejaculate flowed from his erection. Wyatt started to pant, occasionally moaning as he felt the pressure in his rump and felt his own erection throbbing, on the verge of expelling semen. The bed squeaked over and over as Cale accelerated. The Saint Bernard whimpered a few times as he gripped the bedsheets, digging his claws into the fabric and nearly tearing it. He opened his mouth and shouted twice before he hastily huffed and whined. Wyatt could feel warm fluids spreading around his groin and knew exactly what happened. Cale huffed several times as his cock squished and throbbed, sliding back and forth against the crevice formed between Wyatt’s buttocks. And then the lion slowed down and shuddered, and he slammed forward and bellowed. Wyatt shouted again too, and he shut his eyes and gritted his teeth when he felt Cale’s creamy load flowing through his rectum. The lion huffed and panted like a feral animal, hot breath flowing from his mouth as he released several torrents of seed from his phallus.

“A-ah…fuck…” Wyatt said, breathless.

Cale took another long breath before he pulled out, with semen oozing from Wyatt’s sore anus. The lion wiped some sweat off his forehead before he lied down beside Wyatt and purred quietly.

“It’s…it’s been a while?” Wyatt asked.

“Long time.”

“Fig…figures. …Was expecting that to last longer.”

“Fuck you.”

Wyatt exhaled and rolled his eyes. “Gimme ten minutes ‘fore we go again.”

Cale chuckled and nudged Wyatt’s left elbow, while the Saint Bernard turned and lied on his side so he was facing the lion. The chubby dog growled with his mouth closed while Cale purred a few more times as he wagged his tail.

“So…if…so since this is a thing now…prolly should set a few rules.”

Cale exhaled and blinked. “Sure. Like what?”

Wyatt grimaced. “For starters, we’re not getting _this_ close to each other again unless you take breath mints first.”

Cale snorted. “My gums are rotting. Course my breath stinks. Explain why your ass stinks so much.”

“I have a sweat disorder?” Wyatt lied.

Cale grumbled. “Fine, I’ll give you that one. Second? We’re not dating. This isn’t a long-time thing; we won’t be boyfriends.”

“Agreed. Won’t be possible anyway, what with our jobs and all.”

“Also, gonna be dead in about a year. Don’t think it’s a good idea to date someone who’ll be dead soon.”

“Suppose not. Um…no kinky shit.”

“You literally just put your ass on my face.”

“No kinky shit _except_ rimming. Never got into all that bondage shit anyway.”

“Same.”

“Um…guess that’s it?”

Cale smiled. “Good enough for me.”

Wyatt sniffed. “So what now?”

Cale scooted a little closer to Wyatt before he wrapped his arms around the dog again and massaged him. “Don’t gotta return to my ship for another hour…let’s just relax for a bit.”

“Hmph. Sure.”

The two anthros lied in bed together, breathing softly and basking in the musky ambiance. As Cale rubbed Wyatt, he moved a paw close to the canine’s buttocks and grinned.

“Oh, one last thing?”

“Mm?”

Cale slapped Wyatt on his bottom, making the dog yelp.

“Don’t lose weight.”

Wyatt looked at Cale’s massive pudge and his heavyset frame, along with his burly arms and legs before he grinned.

“Same to you.”

_________________________________________

Cale Tomlik and Stollar were back on Cale’s spaceship, the two of them resting inside of Cale’s bedroom, having finished another episode of _The Beauty of Demons_. The chubby lion exhaled as he dropped his remote controller and smiled.

“Now _that_ was good,” Cale said.

“The villain was a dumbass,” Stollar murmured.

“What? C’mon now, don’t be like that.”

“Oh no, I loved that episode! But like, okay, the main villain was a werewolf who had this malicious deity under his control and he _still_ lost. How do you possibly fuck that up?”

“…Yeah, that’s a good point. Ah well. Asshole got his in the end, so I’m happy.”

“Agreed. What’s up next?”

“Hold on.” Cale flipped over to the next episode, which featured the protagonist holding twin swords and snarling as he stood in front of a snake deity fifty times his size.

“Huh…didn’t see this one yet; must be new. Says it’s called ‘Slithery Savagery.’ Apparently it’s a three-parter where Mason has to fight off this snake god.”

“Snake _god_?”

“Yeah. Also apparently there’s an eight-headed serpent deity in it from what the description says.”

“Are you fucking shitting me?!”

“No.”

“We’re watching that _the second_ we finish up all this shit with the Quintuple Cartel.”

Cale snickered as he shut off the monitor and dropped the remote control. “Noted.”

After the lion turned off the television, he flicked his eyes over at Stollar and nudged him with his shoulder.

“Hey.”

“Hmm?”

“You get your dick wet today?”

“Maybe. You get your dick brown?”

“I got my _tongue_ brown.”

“Oh god—ew. No. We’re not—NO!”

Stollar groaned with disgust as he sat up on the bed and rubbed his eyes, while Cale just growled lustfully and scratched his belly.

“You asked.”

“That’s not the answer I wanted, _god_!”

Stollar lowered his hands before he exhaled and shook his head. “Okay, screw whoever did whatever to whom.” The alopid hopped off the bed and crouched down, rifling through a bag filled with various items he bought while he was out in Wormill Central. He took out a giant green book and held it up for Cale to see.

“You bought a book while you were out shopping?”

“Yeah! S’about humans and their history.”

Cale snarled as he rolled his eyes and looked away.

“Don’t get all growly and shit with me. It seemed interesting when I picked it up. Humanity is this entire diverse race that occupied an entire planet, and all we know about it is that it turned into a wasteland.”

“We know there’s less than a billion humans left alive in the galaxy. S’all I care about.”

“I know _you_ don’t care, but…it’s-it’s fascinating, you know? …Kind of sad, actually. All these people had their own society and it got fucked over. Now all these humans can do is write about themselves.”

“You let me know how it is. Not interested.”

Stollar set the book into his bag before he sat on the bed again and twiddled his thumbs. “Actually, that book gave me an idea.”

“Really? For what?”

“I was thinking…we should write a book together.”

Cale turned and stared at Stollar before he eventually scoffed and said, “No one would read it.”

“C’mon now, that ain’t true!”

“‘Bounty hunter who used to be a mercenary caught bad guys for a living, and then he died.’ There. Book finished.”

Stollar glared at Cale.

“What? It’s not inaccurate. Besides, no one reads books anymore; everyone has such low attention spans. If someone isn’t screaming a swear word every five seconds, or something isn’t exploding, or something isn’t smothered with titties and ass and cocks, or drowned with colorful computer generated images, no one gives a shit. Some of the best movies Keevonu and I have watched have such shit reviews, and they’re all from dumbasses who said shit like, ‘oh, the movie’s too slow’ or ‘this movie’s so boring’ or dumb shit like that. What they _really_ meant to say was, ‘nothing exploded in the first two minutes, therefore I hate it’ and ‘this movie did not make me ejaculate. One star!’”

“Well. Aren’t _you_ a prissy bastard.”

“You know I’m right.”

“Who cares? Doesn’t matter if your book isn’t popular; doesn’t matter if no one reads it. Look at the people who made _Cleaning Up the Kingdom’s Mess_ and _The Beauty of Demons_ and _Toasty’s Revolution_. You think they made the shows they were making just to be popular?”

“…Huh. Good point.”

“And anyway, we don’t have the time to make a movie or TV series about our lives. Easiest way is to just write about it. It’ll be fun! We can write about all of our adventures and everything!”

“Hmm.” Cale blinked. “I could write about how I blew off Gobor’s cock.”

“Exactly! Or how about when you went to Tero to track down that one pervert who kept masturbating in public?”

Cale chuckled as he ran his claws through his mane. “ _God_ , I almost forgot that…dumbass didn’t have a gun, so he stroked right in front of me and ‘attacked’ me with semen.”

“You could put down some witty sentence saying he was ‘loaded’ or something.”

“I _would_ say that, wouldn’t I?”

“No shit. Ooh, you can also write how I saved a whole planet by blowing up that spaceship!”

“I’m specifying that you shat yourself during that ordeal.”

“No, you’re not!”

“Yes.”

“NO!”

“Yes.”

“Okay, well imma write how you shat yourself while chasing after Milz Dillvor!”

“I’m incontinent. What’s your excuse?”

Stollar stammered before he pouted and folded his arms. “Don’t judge me!”

Cale thought about laughing, but for some reason he just felt pressure forming in his throat. Cale slowly ran a claw against his bedsheets before he smiled.

“…I could write about my time with the Cephalopodan Strikers.”

“Ehhhh, we can leave that out.”

“No…s’like that book you bought about the humans. They did good _and_ bad…I don’t wanna paint myself as some messiah. S’not right.”

“I mean it’s not lying if you choose to exclude—”

“I’m putting it in the book,” Cale said, defensively. “I have to.”

Stollar looked at Cale and frowned. “All right.”

“I think…you should put down what happened to you too.”

“That’s not important.”

“You got raped, Stollar. And then you raped someone out of frustration because of what someone else did to you.”

“Like I said, not _everyone_ needs to know that.”

“But it explains how we met. How you started your career working at Schrader’s Space Station. How we started working together. I’m gonna be publishing all my dirty secrets too; don’t worry.”

“If you say so.”

Cale swallowed. “I was gonna…I could write about me and Drake. He _is_ the reason I’m a bounty hunter and not some homeless drunk…could write about how I got exposed to the pathogen, all of that.”

“Yeah,” Stollar said softly.

The lion sniffled before giggling and saying, “Now’s a proper time, right? No better time to make an autobiography than now.”

Stollar nodded. “Yeah.”

“I could also, um…could also write…um…”

Cale stopped talking and stared ahead. Stollar didn’t move either. Both of them kept staring at the monitor on the wall, expecting it to give them some kind of answer, but they knew it wouldn’t. They knew nothing about Cale’s situation would change. They knew nothing would make it better. Cale ran a paw against his face and let out a few shaky breaths before a tear came out his right eye. He wiped it away quickly before swallowing and moaning softly. Stollar looked away from Cale, his own eyes watering as he tried to stay calm. But then he heard Cale sniffling repeatedly as he whimpered softly, and he couldn’t hold it in any longer. Cale leaned forward and sobbed, gritting his teeth and shutting his eyes. But he knew it was pointless. When he opened his eyes back up, his right one was red, and tears were constantly streaming down his face. Stollar eventually faced the lion and saw that he was shaking and crying. So he slowly reached over and wrapped his long arms around his body and embraced him.

“I know,” Stollar said softly.

Cale wailed. He wrapped his big arms around Stollar’s body and embraced him too, unable to stop himself from sobbing and wailing. Stollar just gripped the lion tightly as he felt Cale’s body shaking and heard him sniffling and moaning. The alopid whimpered softly, having never heard Cale cry this hard before. Stollar sobbed as well and felt tears running down his face.

“I know buddy,” he said, his voice cracking.

Both of them kept crying and releasing tears from their eyes. All they could do was hold each other and embrace the other person’s warmth as some form of comfort.


	18. The Baron

Gustave didn’t know why the Baron had called him in, but he figured it must’ve been important. But when Gustave entered the fox’s office, he was disturbed when he saw that his office was no longer clean and well-kept like it usually was. Instead, the floor was littered with various fragments of broken busts and knick-knacks only fit to be inside of an antique store. The short beaver paused when he walked inside and shut the door, shocked by the mess.

“Um, sir? You-you said you needed…sir?”

The Baron wasn’t sitting at his desk like he usually was. Rather, he was standing at the center of all the mess, breathing quietly and holding a silver handgun in his right paw. His fur wasn’t smoothly straightened out; it looked unkempt and shaggy. And judging by the smell in the office, the Baron had been sweating a lot and hadn’t showered for a day or two. Sweat stains were all around his white suit, and his trousers were wrinkled. When the Baron slowly turned to look at Gustave, the beaver noticed that his eyes were watering, and he had been crying recently.

“Sir…what’s the matter?”

“The portrait…up…up there,” the Baron said, pointing his gun at a picture on the wall.

Gustave looked up at the painting with a raised eyebrow. “Looks nice. Where did—”

The Baron shot at the picture five times, causing Gustave to shout and flinch as he backed away. The portrait eventually fell on the floor, and the Baron exhaled as he dragged his tired footpaws towards it and picked it up, smiling as he looked at it. He slowly turned the picture around and showed it to Gustave.

“Do you know who this is?” the fox asked.

“No! Sir, what’s going on?! Why’s your office—”

“Answer the question,” he said, his voice rising slightly.

Gustave blinked, intimidated by the fox’s subtle change in voice. He looked at the picture of a bearded human being wearing a black suit and shrugged.

“Dunno. Not really knowledgeable on humanity, sir.”

The Baron stared at Gustave and felt two more tears running down his face. He smiled and chuckled wryly to himself before tossing the portrait aside.

“It’s Abraham Lincoln. He was a president of a country known as the United States of America back on Earth.”

“Oh.”

“‘Oh,’ he says.” The Baron shook his head and scoffed before pointing his gun at small gold coins on the floor. “See those?”

Gustave lifted his footpaw and backed away as he crouched down and looked at a few gold coins lying on the floor.

“Uhhh…gold coins. Hmm, they look like those special gourmet chocolates that come wrapped up in gold paper!”

“They’re tremissises. Well, replicas of them. There’s a face on some of those coins depicting Flavius Romulus Augustus, an emperor of a community known as Rome.”

“Never heard of him.”

“Course not…of course.” The Baron wiped some of his tears away. He pointed at the fragments of a broken bust and let out a frustrated breath. “See that broken bust there?”

“Oh, you mean that bust you busted?”

Gustave chuckled after making the lighthearted comment, while the Baron just gazed at him with his cold blue eyes. The beaver immediately shut his mouth and stood up straight.

“That bust was modelled after a khan called Jani Beg, or Djanibek Khan. He was an important figure within the Mongol Empire.”

Gustave opened his mouth.

“Shut up; I know you don’t know who he was. I know you don’t know who Gaius Julius Caesar was. I know you don’t know who any of these fuckin’ people were.”

Gustave flinched when he noticed that the Baron’s tone was rising. The fox whimpered as he looked down at the mess on the floor and felt more tears coming from his eyes.

“I see now,” he said, his voice breaking slightly. “I see now…what they all felt. I get it…I understand.”

“Understand what, sir?”

“That feeling of having everything…and then having a sole person just take it all away.”

The Baron looked at Gustave and blinked. “Is this fate, Gustave? Was this _supposed_ to happen to me? Was I blessed with-with all these wonderful fortunes, just to have one, lone, _single_ anthro take it all from me? Is anyone gonna remember what I’ve done here? …Is anyone gonna remember who I am?”

Gustave meekly pushed his index fingers together and backed away slightly, feeling exposed within the Baron’s presence. “Um, I’m not sure if I’m the right person to be asking—”

“Tell me about yourself.”

“Sorry?”

The Baron smiled. “Tell me about yourself, Gustave Lekkil. I want to know more about your life.”

“Really?” The beaver smiled and lightly slapped his big tail against the floor. “Well, I’m turning thirty-nine next month. I’m a big fan of _Grim Games_ —you know, that deadly televised motocross series? Err, not married anymore. Parents still alive, but my mother recently got diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. Mmmm…ooh! I love tofu! Hehe, can’t get enough of that! You know that they have this one recipe…sir, what are you doing with that glass?”

The Baron kept smiling as he walked over to Gustave, his right paw bleeding as he gripped the glass shard tightly.

“Jesus—sir, let go! You’re cutting your paw!”

Gustave rushed over to his employer and tried to take the glass away from him, but the fox wouldn’t open up his paw. He just kept smiling at the beaver.

“Sir, please! Let go—”

Gustave felt a sharp pain in his midriff. He heard flesh getting punctured and inhaled sharply. It felt as though someone just pinched him right above his kidney. The beaver backed away and grasped his side.

“OW! What…” Gustave looked down at his left paw. He was bleeding. “Sir, what the FA—OW!”

The Baron plunged the glass into Gustave a second time, and then a third. The beaver panted and wheezed, blood running down his suit as he tried to limp his way towards the door. The Baron merely dropped the glass, raised his pistol, and shot Gustave in the spine. The beaver yelped and fell flat on his stomach, having lost feeling in his legs. The Baron kept smiling as he approached Gustave, who was whimpering and dragging his body against the floor, hoping to get away.

“Secur—” Gustave coughed up blood and wheezed. “Help…”

The Baron exhaled as he crouched down and tapped the barrel of his gun against Gustave’s face. “Now you understand. All that time, all that effort you spent getting here…thirty-nine years of hard work flushed down the toilet. And it was all because of a single shard of glass and a tiny, insignificant bullet. And once you’re gone, no one will remember you. No one will miss you. No one will know about any of your feats.”

“Sir…please…” Gustave begged.

Still smiling, the Baron calmly slid the barrel of his gun into Gustave’s mouth, listening as the beaver’s whimpers became muffled and tears ran down his face.

“I can’t fix my clock anymore, Gustave…and I’ve run out of patience. Guess I’ll have to make a new one.”

The Baron didn’t even flinch as he pulled the trigger, splattering the beaver’s brains all over the floor and against his suit. He slowly removed the gun from Gustave’s mouth, watching as blood dripped from the bullet’s exit wound and Gustave’s open mouth, before he set his gun back into his trousers and walked over to his desk.

“New…new clock…new empire…yes,” he murmured to himself.

The Baron sat down at his desk and exhaled as he looked at his computer screen. The fox’s ears twitched when he heard a subtle ticking noise, and realized that his wooden clock was still working. But the tiny hand that was supposed to tick for every second had slowed down significantly. Instead of ticking every second, it only ticked once a minute. The Baron knew the clock would cease to function, just like his digital one did. He just snorted before looking at his computer screen and bringing up a program depicting twenty-six different square icons that were all glowing bright green and beeping every few seconds. After the Baron stared at the screen for a few seconds, he slid his sleeve up and pushed a few buttons on his FCD. After listening to static for a few seconds, he heard a gruff voice on the other end of the line.

“Yeah?”

“You’re a go.”

“Understood, sir.”

The call ended immediately, and the Baron slid his sleeve back down and waited.

___________________________________

Somewhere on Drorix, various members within the Baron’s personal organization were standing or sitting inside of a heated, musky warehouse, moving around various piles of money and laundering the cash for their boss. One of the anthros inside the building wiped sweat off his forehead before he started walking towards one of the tables three anthros sat at.

“How much more?”

The skunk sitting at the table set several dollars bills inside of a money-counting machine and sniffled. “Got about three more stacks to go.”

“Hurry it up. Baron wants us outta here by the afternoon.”

“Gotcha. Wouldn’t wanna see Jojen’s ugly-ass mug again.”

The black otter stared at the skunk. “Jojen was here?”

“Yeah, he came by about a week ago, maybe longer.”

“Why wasn’t I told?” the otter demanded, voice rising.

The skunk scoffed. “What d’you want me to do: file a report about how he took a shit for ten minutes?”

“Which bathroom did he use?”

The skunk blinked. “Yorkin, will you calm your ass—”

“Which one?!”

The skunk looked to his right and pointed towards the corner of the warehouse. “That one over there.”

Yorkin ignored the skunk and sprinted for the bathroom posthaste. He panted as he moved his way past some of his coworkers and immediately shoved the bathroom door open. He turned on the light, panting as he looked at the urinals and kicked open the stall doors. Paranoid, the otter looked underneath the toilets, and even inside of them, along with each toilet’s tank. The otter huffed several times before he stood on one of the toilet bowls and peeked inside one of the air vents, praying he didn’t find a blinking light. When the otter stepped out of the stall, he placed his fingers over his eyes and squeezed them, groaning.

“Goddamn, Yorkin, calm down…calm down,” he told himself. “You did nothing—”

Yorkin heard faint beeping. His eyes widened as he saw faint flickering coming from one of the sinks. The otter slowly crouched down and looked at the sink’s pipes, huffing and feeling bile rushing into his mouth. Then he looked inside the sink’s drain, and the beeping grew louder and more frequent. Yorkin took out a flashlight and shined it down into the drain. It was very faint, but the otter spotted a green light flickering from within the sink’s drain. And then it turned red.

“FFFFFUUUUU—”

Yorkin didn’t hear the explosion. He died long before he felt the explosion frying his entire body. The skunk who was busy counting money looked up just in time to see the bathroom erupt into flames. Less than a second later, the rest of the warehouse followed.

____________________________________

The Baron sat in his chair and kept watching the computer screen. He observed the small icons on the screen, one of which depicted a small money symbol. It kept glowing green for another few seconds, and then it beeped in a low tone and turned red. Seconds later, a second icon turned red, along with two other ones. The Baron quietly laughed to himself as he witnessed all of the icons gradually changing color, until all twenty-six of them were red.

“Can’t burn ashes, can you?” the Baron murmured.

The fox chuckled deeply to himself as he rolled his tongue around his mouth. “Can’t burn ashes…”

As the Baron kept looking at his computer, he heard the small speaker on his desk crackle.

“Sir?”

“What is it, Felsed?”

“One of our guys in the IGPA just notified me. He said they know about our location. An assault will be imminent.”

“Good.”

“Sir? We should evacuate—”

“No. Get everyone ready.”

“What about the civilians? Some of—”

“Clean house.”

There was a pause over the speaker. “Sir…I understand that you are my employer, but I believe what you’re suggesting is irrational. Never mind the civilians—we can’t engage with officers from the Intergalactic Police Association.”

“You said they plan on assaulting this building. We’ll be defending ourselves.”

“But if there are witnesses—”

“Do as I say, Felsed.”

Felsed exhaled noisily over the speaker. “As you wish.”

After Felsed got off the speaker, the Baron reached over and pulled out the cord so there would be no more interruptions.

“Let them come,” the Baron said, as he grinned and looked at the mess in his office.

“Let them all come…”

_______________________________

Stollar leaned against the table in the lunchroom, twirling one of his handguns around over and over again and trying his best not to hyperventilate. Cale exited his bedroom wearing a dark gray vest and pants, both of which had a camouflage pattern on them one would find on a soldier’s uniform. In the lion’s right pocket was his trusty plasma handgun, but he also carried a Heckler & Koch UMP submachine gun that was strapped to his back. He walked over to Stollar and looked down at the alopid before sniffling.

“Baross said they should be at the tower in an hour,” Stollar responded.

“Good. Gives us plenty of time to reach Sarloss.”

“Good. You got your medicine?”

Cale nodded. “You got your knife?”

“Won’t need it.” Stollar laughed as he brandished his guns. “Got these right here!”

“Go get my sliding knife under the bed.”

“Wait, why?”

“Just get it. You’d be surprised how useful a knife is compared to a gun.”

Stollar huffed and moved away from the table. “All right, all right.”

Cale watched as the skinny alien headed into his bedroom for a moment. He leaned against the table before he took out his own combat knife, a standard Ka-Bar with a brown handle that he made sure to sharpen after the battle at Kolson’s warehouse. He flipped the knife around in his paw a few times before he slid it back into its sheath and sniffed. Stollar emerged from the bedroom holding the sliding knife, and he kept pushing on the button against the handle that deployed and retracted the knife.

“S’like a box cutter, except it don’t make any clicking noise when you deploy the blade. Useful if you wanna sneak up on an enemy and kill ‘em silently.”

“Cool,” Stollar said, before stuffing the knife in his left pocket. “So, we good then?”

“Guess so.”

“Mm. Nervous?”

“I’m always nervous before a mission. I just learned to embrace it instead of fighting it.”

“Good point. Least we don’t have to worry about billions of people dying if we fail this time!”

“Sure.”

“Hmm.” Stollar ruffled his pants a bit before saying, “We should do this more often, y’know?”

“Do what? Catch bad guys together?”

“I don’t see why not. This’ll be my third time out in the field with you; I’m kinda getting used to it.”

“Can you even hold a shotgun properly?”

“I’ll learn,” Stollar growled. “And it’s…well, it’s ‘better’ that I help you catch all these criminals.”

“Mm. You’re still worried about me.”

“Yes, but that’s not what I mean. I’m saying I’ve spent most of my time just shouting in your ear while I sat in Schrader’s Space Station. At best I got to see you haul in all the bad guys you arrested. But then we _both_ caught Gobor Grizzer. And actually partaking in apprehending some degenerate filth like that asshole felt so much more—”

“Rewarding?”

“ _Cathartic_ ,” Stollar said.

Cale scoffed and smirked. “I _am_ rubbing off on you.”

Stollar folded his arms and smiled smugly. “I may have picked up a few things.”

“Really? Well, on that note, here’s something we should _both_ do before we head out.”

“What?”

“Go take a shit.”

Stollar frowned and narrowed his eyes. “I’m heading to the bathroom because I _want_ to, not because you suggested it.”

Cale leaned back against the table and smiled mockingly again. “Sure.”

As Stollar walked over to the bathroom in Cale’s bedroom, he held up one of his fingers.

“That doesn’t work when you only got _four_ fingers.”

“I’M DOING IT ANYWAY!”

_______________________________________________________

The financial district in Gyver’s City was much more claustrophobic compared to the other cities Cale and Stollar had recently been to. All the skyscrapers, banks, and multibillion-dollar corporations were built so close together that some of the employees of one building could look outside a window and see whether or not another employee in a separate building was working or texting on their phones. Some of the buildings in the district even connected to one another, with small, enclosed bridges built hundreds of feet above the ground allowing employees to walk from building to building. All the windows on the towers were tinted, as if every corporation had some kind of malicious secret that needed to remain hidden from the public. When Cale and Stollar were on the ground, they were surprised that the streets were manageable to walk around on—and they later found out that the only reason why was because the IGPA had set a perimeter around the Baron’s tower. Anyone and anything within a two-mile radius of the tower was closed off, causing various traffic jams and irritating hundreds of anthros who were trying to get to work. Cale and Stollar breached the IGPA’s barrier and nonchalantly made their way towards the district’s tallest tower.

The duo thought that Kolson was being far too vague when he said “tallest tower,” but when they actually saw the tower, they knew which one was the Baron’s immediately. It was the only tower in the district that had a colossal yellow lightning rod on it, making it appear just slightly bigger than all the rest. All the skyscrapers surrounding the Baron’s tower seemed like they were intentionally built to be shorter, just so they wouldn’t overshadow the Baron’s stronghold. There weren’t even bridges connecting the Baron’s tower to some of the smaller buildings. When Cale and Stollar got closer to the building, they heard helicopters whirring up above, and the two of them looked up and watched as two helicopters with a green and gray color scheme flew to the tower’s helipad and landed.

“Not taking any chances, is he?” Stollar asked.

“You know how Agent Kullwin is.”

The alopid scoffed. “Least we got plenty of backup this time around.”

After walking for another five minutes, Cale and Stollar spotted a team of IGPA agents who were all standing beside a colossal gray van with the letters “IGPA” scribbled on the sides in bright yellow letters. All the agents were various anthros wearing uniforms consisting of helmets, bulletproof vests, and gray trousers and long-sleeved gray shirts. One of the agents was clad in a regular gray suit, albeit the anthro was wearing a bulletproof vest as well beneath his suit. He stopped talking to the field agents in front of him and quickly walked over to go greet Cale and Stollar.

“Wasn’t sure you two would make it,” said Baross Kullwin.

“Eh, you know.” Cale shrugged. “Traffic.”

The Gila monster thumped his tail on the ground before looking at Stollar. “Why are _you_ here?”

Stollar scoffed. “I helped Cale take down Grizzer and Arcornoc _without_ this giant police armada. This’ll be easy for me.”

“Do you even—”

“He’s staying, Baross,” Cale growled.

Baross growled. “May as well not even bother arguing. Kolson give up what floor the Baron’s on?”

“No. All I know is that he’s a white fox with blue eyes. Prolly dressed in a suit.”

“Not much, is it?”

“Just inform your men not to kill any foxes in a snazzy suit.”

“Noted. Got two teams down here. Two teams attacking from above. We’ll sandwich him into a corner. No other ways to leave the building ‘sides the ground and top floors. He’s got nowhere to go.”

“Good. I suggest we move now then.”

Baross didn’t argue with the bounty hunters. He dug into his suit’s pockets and took out two earpieces for the duo to use. After Cale and Stollar shoved them in their ears and turned them on, Baross reached behind his back and grabbed his submachine gun. Afterwards, Baross nodded and waved for the rest of the IGPA agents to follow him towards the building’s entrance, where four other agents were standing. The four of them hid against stone pillars in front of the building and kept peering inside, gazing at the various silhouettes on the ground floor.

“Operation’s a go, everyone. I repeat, commence the operation,” Baross said into his earpiece.

Baross, Stollar, and Cale all waited outside as the four field agents kicked open a set of double doors and infiltrated the building.

“Everyone on the floor! Get down—”

Everyone outside yelped or swore vehemently when they listened to turret gunfire whirring and tearing through the IGPA agents. Two of them didn’t even have time to yelp as they were cut to pieces, while a third one had enough time to rush outside before Cale, Baross, and Stollar witnessed no less than twenty bullets penetrating his body and nearly tearing him in half. The officers outside all took cover, while a panting Baross huffed twice and spoke into his earpiece again.

“TURRET IN THE LOBBY! SEND IN THE LAV!” Baross shouted over the earpiece.

Cale, Stollar, and the other agents continued to hide as an armored dune buggy sped around the corner and appeared at the other end of the street, a few yards away from the tower’s entrance. The dune buggy was painted blue and gray, and reinforced so heavily that the vehicle didn’t even have windows, just small slits for the driver to look out of. The dune buggy’s engine roared as it gunned forward, speeding its way towards the tower’s entrance. Everyone watched as the vehicle crashed through the glass doors, shattering multiple panes and rumbling as it entered the building. On the top of the buggy was an automated turret equipped with a machine gun and rocket launcher, which one of the buggy’s occupants used to fire a missile at the turret built inside the lobby. Once the turret in the lobby exploded, the same controller used the dune buggy’s turret to mow down the five guards who were standing around the ground floor.

“Targets down,” the controller stated.

Feeling a sense of relief, Baross and the other agents infiltrated the tower and began to spread out. Baross pointed at the staircase and held up four fingers; four IGPA field agents headed into the stairwell and began to ascend.

“Cale, Stollar, on me,” Baross commanded.

The bounty hunters followed the Gila monster, while the occupants within the dune buggy exited their vehicle and began to observe their surroundings.

“Orders, sir?” one of them asked.

“Hold down the perimeter. You see anyone who isn’t the Baron or one of our agents, eliminate them.”

“Understood.”

After speaking to the small group of agents, Baross headed straight for one of the lifts and pushed one of the buttons beside it. Cale looked up at the elevators and noticed there were three separate lifts. He stepped over towards the lift on the left and pushed a button, causing Baross to raise an eyebrow.

“The hell you doin’?”

“Eggs in a basket, Kullwin,” Cale growled.

Stollar walked over to the elevator on the right and pushed one of the buttons as well. “They’re not gonna have a guy guarding all _three_ elevators at the same time. Get inside and we’ll figure out what floor to stop on.”

Before Baross could say anything, the elevators all dinged, and the doors opened up. The Gila monster stepped inside his elevator car, as did Stollar and Cale.

“What floor?” Baross asked, after the elevator doors all slid shut.

“Twenty seems good,” Stollar responded, after examining the plethora of buttons on the panel beside the doors.

Everyone pushed the corresponding buttons on the panel inside their elevators and hid near the walls, using the small metal area where the buttons were in the elevator as cover. They waited for thirty seconds before the elevator quickly reached the twentieth floor and dinged. Once the doors opened, Cale shouted and winced, gritting his teeth as three anthros fired blindly into his elevator, narrowly missing his big belly. Baross and Stollar arrived at the exact same time and noticed that Cale was in trouble. Stollar stormed out into the spacious corridor and shot at two anthros in the back, while the third one noticed too late that all the elevator doors opened, and not just the one Cale was standing inside. Baross stomped out his car and quickly shot the third hostile in the forehead, while Cale immediately walked out his elevator and started to take a few deep breaths.

“Clear?” he asked.

“Clear,” Baross responded.

The trio grouped together as they gripped their weapons firmly, quickly but meticulously advancing through the corridor. Cale kicked open a few doors, expecting to encounter a few enemies hiding in the rooms, but all he found were empty closets, bathrooms, and server rooms. It wasn’t until the trio arrived at a huge, two-story section of the tower that provided a perfect view of the city that they froze. There were several offices within the atrium they stood in, along with a wide staircase leading to the twenty-first floor. But as the trio walked around the atrium and looked into the offices, they saw that dozens of glass panes had shattered. Bullet casings were riddled around the floor, bullet holes tore through several walls, barriers, columns and electronic equipment, and there were no less than thirty bodies scattered about.

“The fuck? These guys don’t look like mercenaries; they’re just wearing regular dress shirts and suits. …These all civilians?” Stollar asked.

Cale snarled. “He knows we’re onto him.”

“So what? Why slaughter a bunch of businesspeople?”

Baross shrugged. “Collateral damage. Witnesses. Burning all traces of evidence. Take your pick.” The Gila monster exhaled as he turned on his earpiece and messaged the other agents. “All units, pick your shots wisely. The Baron’s men may have hostages.”

The trio continued to move their way through the atrium, walking up onto the twenty-first floor and looking through all of the offices and rooms, checking to ensure that none of the Baron’s guards were inside. As they examined the various bodies around the floors, Cale couldn’t help but smirk when he spotted a few burly security guards who had been stabbed or shot to death. One thug in particular had a pencil lodged deep into his eye socket.

“Tch. Looks like some of them fought back at least.”

“Saves us some bullets,” Baross stoically remarked.

As the trio made their way to the stairwell, they heard the door slam shut. Cale swore as he sprinted for the door and stormed out into the stairwell, where he heard rapid footsteps growing quieter as each second passed.

“Fuck!” Cale shouted.

“Was that him?!” Stollar asked, as he sprinted into the staircase.

“Dunno.” The lion growled. “We’re gonna have to split up. Stollar, head up to the rooftop in the elevator and give the field agents some backup. Baross and I will keep searching the floors.”

“Splitting up is usually what humans do when they wanna get killed in horror movies,” Stollar flatly stated.

“Good thing we ain’t human.”

Stollar groaned and rolled his eyes. “Figured you’d say something like that. Just keep me updated if y’all need help.”

“Likewise. Although something tells me the Baron’s gonna be a pushover.”

___________________________________________

The Baron grunted as he removed his combat knife from the IGPA agent’s skull. He walked around the barren floor holding a knife in one paw and a handgun in the other, his suit covered in blood. The fox casually stepped over five other IGPA agents’ bodies before he heard footsteps in the distance and smiled. The fox looked up at the exposed fluorescent lights in the series of narrow hallways and sniffled. On the top of the Baron’s head was a set of goggles that switched between night vision and infrared vision. The Baron slid the goggles on, pointed his silenced handgun up at the lights, and started to shoot out the bulbs. After he finished traversing around the hallways and heard someone opening up the stairwell door, he activated his night vision, hid against one of the walls, and removed the suppressed assault rifle strapped to his back.

“Son of a bitch—flashlights on!” one of the IGPA agents said.

The flashlights didn’t matter. The Baron peered around the corner of the wall and spotted two agents switching on their flashlights at the end of the hall. He immediately raised his assault rifle and shot two of them in the back of the neck before sprinting towards the opposite side of the floor.

“Contact! Agents down, agents down!”

The Baron didn’t panic. He maintained his composure, even as sweat formed around his face and his heart started to beat too fast for him to realize. He moved his way into an office room that had five dead employees inside of it and hid beside one of the copiers. Just to bait the agents, the Baron shoved aside a water dispenser, knowing the commotion would result in the agents rushing to find the source of the noise. Still hiding, the Baron heard the door burst open, and the sound of four different footsteps. He knew the agents were silently being ordered to investigate the office, so the Baron stayed hidden. He pointed his assault rifle towards his left at a diagonal angle, waiting for the IGPA agent to reveal himself. The second he got a good shot, the Baron fired at the agent four times, causing him to grunt and fall. Then he shot the fallen agent in the forehead for good measure, seconds before a hailstorm of bullets went off. The Baron sprinted around the office again, panting and switching to infrared vision as he hid against one of the barriers separating some of the cubicles.

One of the agents sprinted towards the cubicle and got close to the wall the Baron was hiding near. The fox smirked as he shot through the barrier, hitting the agent in his legs. The agent collapsed and hollered, and the Baron made sure to shoot him twice in the head, just in time for the final two agents to arrive. Once again, the Baron hid against one of the cubicle barriers, hugging it until he spotted the heat signature from one of the two agents. One of them stepped in front of the barrier and grunted as he was shot in the abdomen. The agent panted and stammered, while the Baron stood straight up and shot him in his ear. He swiftly threw himself over the cubicle, shouting when the last agent fired and hit part of his tail. Nevertheless, the Baron still had his infrared vision on, which made it easier for him to shoot the final agent in his footpaws when he started to turn around the corner and got close to the cubicle. The agent nervously panted as he tried to raise his submachine gun, but the Baron shot at it, shattering part of the barrel and rendering the gun useless. He walked over to the agent and immediately pointed his gun at the canine’s forehead.

“Cale Tomlik. Where is he?” the Baron asked.

The agent coughed a few times and huffed. “Don’t know—”

“He’s here. You know him. Where is he?”

The agent slowly moved his paw towards his left pocket. The Baron noticed but chose to ignore it.

“Radio him. Ask him of his current location.”

The canine used his right paw to turn on his earpiece. “Cale Tomlik? Agent Kullwin?”

“Go ahead. You need assistance?” Cale asked over the earpiece.

“FORTI—!”

The Baron shot the agent in the face just as he tried to remove his sidearm from his pants and nearly gave away his location. The arctic fox just shook his head and sighed.

“Oh well.”

_____________________________________

Agent Baross Kullwin and Cale Tomlik waited until the elevator doors opened, and they found themselves on the fortieth floor of the building. Both of them turned on their flashlights and pointed their guns outside, observing the ransacked floor as they surreptitiously made their way across the carpeted area. As they moved their way through the corridor, Baross spotted an open door and frowned when he found traces of blood and a few bodies inside of an office area.

“Shit…what is that, five?” Baross asked.

“I’d say twelve…think most of these guys were the assault team on the roof,” Cale responded.

“Hmph. Wounded animal trapped in a corner.”

“Still got your team outside and in the lobby. Still got Stollar and whatever IGPA agents he regrouped with. We’ll catch the Baron, don’t worry.”

A gunshot cracked. Cale pointed his gun out into the corridor and spotted a faint white figure disappear around the corner of a wall.

“On me!” Cale shouted.

The Gila monster followed the lion, the two of them sprinting out in the corridor again to investigate the source of the noise. Cale and Baross came across the door leading to the stairwell, and listened as it clicked and closed. Both of them jogged to the door and stood on each side of it before Cale kicked it open, and Baross aimed into the staircase. He heard footsteps above him and saw a silhouette of a shadow moving up the stairs. Wordlessly and slyly, Cale and Baross walked up the stairs, hot breath exploding from their mouths as they continued to follow the shadows. The door on the forty-fifth floor emitted a noisy bang before creaking and clicking as it shut. Baross and Cale stood in front of the door before Cale stiffened and backed away.

“Hold up, no. This don’t feel right,” Cale murmured.

“What doesn’t?” Baross asked.

“I’m saying someone put steak onto a fishing line and is dangling it above my face.”

“I’m more into veal, so.”

Cale narrowed his eyes at the reptile. “This whole thing seems off, Kullwin. We’ve barely run into the Baron’s security forces. Most of the personnel are dead. No one’s reported some kind of transport or escape vehicle even attempting to leave the building. The Baron can’t be this dimwitted.”

“What are you implying?”

“Look, Gobor pulled the same shit. I was following him and I had the son of a bitch. Then he gleefully told me that he had a bomb somewhere and was gonna kill thousands of people if I arrested him. Look at how that turned out.”

“True. Nevertheless, that was _before_ you dismantled most of the Baron’s organization. I don’t think he has many resources left. We’re overthinking this; let’s just go ahead and arrest him and call it a day.”

The lion exhaled. “Fine.”

Baross and Cale kicked open the door to the forty-fifth floor and found nothing of importance. The hallway they began to walk through was as clean as the museum Cale went to just the other day. The carpet was shaggy and had various brown and red patterns all over it, the walls were lined with pictures of philosophers and scientists from across the universe, and there were a few chandeliers dangling from the ceiling. Up ahead was a wide open office with one of the double doors open. Baross and Cale slowly approached it, walking into the office and examining how empty it was, short of a long table that had five chairs seated against it. After Cale entered the room, he lowered his gun and huffed.

Baross scratched his head and said, “Where the hell is—”

Another gunshot cracked. Baross spiraled to the floor after someone shot him in the skull. Cale gasped and turned around, just as the Baron slammed the door shut and pointed a gun at Cale. Neither Baross nor Cale looked behind the open door, much to Cale’s frustration. Cale started to raise his submachine gun.

“Don’t,” the fox snarled, before he locked the door.

Cale huffed and gradually lowered his gun.

“Empty it.”

The lion glared at the fox and the handgun he was carrying before he ejected the magazine from the weapon and released the single bullet from the chamber. He tossed the gun on the floor before the Baron looked at Cale’s pistol.

“Take the battery out. Slowly.”

Growling, Cale took his plasma pistol and removed the plasma battery within the weapon, rendering it inoperable. He tossed that gun on the floor as well before huffing. The Baron circled around Cale for a moment before he grinned widely, showing off his pearly white teeth.

“Let’s talk.”

_____________________________________

Stollar flinched when he heard a gunshot in the distance. The short alien started to walk through another office floor, when he came across several bodies slumped against their desks or within their cubicles. The alien held both of his handguns firmly as he heard another gunshot, followed by someone shouting. He made his way to the floor’s break room and noticed that the door was left ajar. Stollar slowly peeked inside and spotted multiple civilians who had their paws tied behind their backs and were on their knees. Some of the civilians were already dead, slouched against the wall after having been shot in the back of the head. When Stollar quietly opened the door even further, he noticed a brawny, brownish-skinned rhino with two horns was walking behind each civilian with a handgun in his right hand. He pointed a handgun at a fox’s scalp and pulled the trigger, not even flinching when the fox’s crimson-colored blood splattered against his arm and body. Scowling, Stollar pointed his silenced pistol at the rhino’s head and fired.

The bullet clipped part of the rhino’s right ear before hitting the wall.

“FUCKING _ASS_!” Stollar shrieked.

The rhino jerked his arm at Stollar and fired, but the speedy alien yelped and moved back into the office. He started to sprint for cover, huffing and looking at the break room’s door. When he first saw the rhino, he shot at him several times, the bullets coughing softly and the casings clattering on the floor. When the pachyderm saw an opening, he ran outside and started firing at Stollar as well, unloading most of his clip as he spotted Stollar running from cubicle to cubicle, hoping to hide his body from the rhino’s wrath. When Stollar had a perfect view of the rhino, he aimed his guns at him and fired. The rhino took out his pistol and aimed for Stollar’s hands, shooting both guns and shattering them. Stollar yelped as he dropped his weapons, while the rhino tossed his empty gun on the floor and charged.

“Oh FUCK!” Stollar shouted, before the rhino tackled him through multiple cubicle walls.

After shattering glass and knocking down multiple barriers, the rhino picked up Stollar and slammed him down onto the floor, nearly breaking his spine. Stollar coughed and gasped, hoping none of his bones snapped, while the rhinoceros took his beefy hands and grabbed Stollar’s throat. Stollar started to gasp, but he didn’t panic. Sliding his hand into his pocket, Stollar removed his knife, pushed the blade out, and stabbed the rhino in his left kidney. The rhino hollered and stood up, grasping his side while Stollar coughed and wearily got to his feet, cracking his back and taking a few short breaths. The rhino took out his own knife and snorted, charging for Stollar again and swiping his knife at him. Stollar kept his eyes focused on the knife and nothing else, watching to see whether the pachyderm would slash or stab, and backing away or ducking whenever necessary. The pachyderm paused at first and grabbed his side again before thrusting his blade forward. Stollar weaved to the left and slashed at the rhino’s fingers, causing him to howl again.

Not giving the rhino time to pick up the knife, he speedily rushed over to him and slashed at his arms, cutting open some of the arteries. Then he plunged his blade into the rhino’s chest, before lifting his arm high and stabbing him in the neck. Stollar heard the beast bellow, sounding like a dying animal that just tore its own paw off. He removed the blade with a wet squelch and backed away, watching as the rhino huffed and stumbled. Unable to give up, the pachyderm limped forward and picked up his knife again. But just as he began to point it at Stollar, he fell to his knees, huffing and bleeding from five different wounds. The knife fell from his hands. Scoffing, Stollar walked up to the rhino and pushed his big hand in his face, shoving him backwards with little effort. After the rhino’s body fell, Stollar panted and made his way back to the break room, where he encountered the four hostages.

“Everyone relax,” he said, breathless. “I’m with the IGPA; you’re safe now. I’m gonna cut off your binds, all right? Don’t panic.”

Stollar walked over to the four anthros and severed the rope binding their paws together. The hostages all took the tape off their mouths before standing up and looking at the alien.

“Oh thank god, we’re saved!”

“What the fuck is going on?!”

“That asshole killed my entire entourage!”

Stollar held up his hands and huffed. “It’s complicated. We’ll explain more later. Just head to the elevator, go straight to the ground floor, got it? The tower isn’t secure yet, but the lobby is. More officers will take care of you from there.”

“Thank you,” one of the hostages said, before jogging out the break room. “Thanks!”

Stollar nodded as the other two hostages followed. Just as the fourth one was about to leave, Stollar grabbed the primate’s arm and stopped him.

“Hey, you been here long?”

“Um, fo-four years. Why?”

“You know where the Baron is usually spotted?”

The primate stared at Stollar blankly.

“Arctic fox? Blue eyes? Seen anyone like that?”

“Who, Olly? Yeah, yeah—he-he’s got multiple offices. Most of ‘em are on the forty-fifth floor.”

“Okay, good. Thanks.”

Stollar let the primate leave before he messaged the other officers through his earpiece. “Baross, he’s on the forty-fifth floor! He should be holed up in an office there!”

No one answered.

“Baross?”

Still no answer.

“Hey, any of you guys in the lobby seen Agent Kullwin recently?”

“He hasn’t reported in,” one field agent responded.

Stollar exhaled. “Cale, why aren’t you with Baross? I thought you said y’all were gonna find the Baron together?”

Cale didn’t answer either. The alopid connected the dots very quickly and swore to himself. Then he sprinted out of the break room and headed for the stairwell.

__________________________________________

“There’s nothing to talk about,” Cale said calmly.

“Yes, there is. You see, you’ve…you’re that pebble. You’re that tiny speck of dirt that flies into my eyes. You’re that insect that plopped into my soup. You understand, Cale Tomlik?”

“I prefer being the shit-stain on your underwear.” Cale shrugged. “But those work too.”

The Baron sniffled as he started to circle Cale, keeping his distance and kicking Cale’s weapons away.

“You’ve no idea how much money you’ve cost me, how much frustration I’ve been plagued with because of you. All of them…my _entire_ team. You bested all of them, and I just…” The Baron chuckled and shook his head. “I just don’t understand. I truly cannot fathom it.”

Cale shrugged. “It ain’t rocket science. All you bad guys are dumbasses.”

The Baron snarled as he got close to Cale. He looked down at Cale’s claws and saw that they were unsheathed, so he quickly stepped back just as the lion stepped towards him.

“Specify,” the Baron snarled.

“Easy. Milz Dillvor is one of the best assassins out there. She gave herself up to save a _single_ person. Dr. Vogar Oblingor is an intelligent cronok, yet this ‘smart’ alien was dumb enough to believe that I would allow myself to become some genetically-enhanced soldier for him. Tch, that idiot didn’t even threaten me with a weapon, and he kept turning his back to me. Gobor Grizzer was just luck. That asshole tore apart Knochen City so badly that a bunch of rebels finally decided to attack his tower. If I hadn’t caught Gobor, those rebels would’ve killed him; Gobor was a lost cause from the start. Kolson Arcornoc was overworked, as were his employees. I was able to get the drop on him and most of his men because they were too damn tired to stay alert.”

“Hmph. So what about me?”

Cale chuckled and pointed at the fox. “I woulda pulled that trigger by now. And considering you took out those IGPA agents a few floors down, I would’ve assumed you’d have more weapons and tech on you. But you ditched them, for some unknown reason. Here you stand, _telling_ me how much trouble I’ve given you instead of just up and killing me. At least Milz and Kolson were smart enough to try and kill me the second they realized I was on their tails. Hell, Milz damn-near succeeded.”

“Isn’t it obvious why I haven’t killed you?”

“Yeah. You’re a dumbass, just like the others.”

The Baron exhaled. “I’ve made…mistakes, yes. But-but no more. I’m pragmatic. And as someone like you would say, I’m ‘fucked.’ But as I…as I realized this, I thought, ‘wait…Cale Tomlik is the problem. Maybe he’s the solution too.’”

“You think I’m gonna get you outta this mess?”

“Precisely.”

“Why the fuck would I do that?”

“Because you want to. Because it’s your nature. I know about your time with the Cephalopodan Strikers. I know about what you’ve done and what you ‘haven’t’ done. I know what kind of person you are.”

“No, you don’t.”

“All you care about is money. I can give that to you. All you care about is hurting people who oppose you. I can give you that. All you care about is making people like me suffer. Well, what-what if you worked _with_ people like me, and I give you a list of names of people who need to suffer?”

Cale smirked and folded his arms. “You want me to be your homicidal bitch. S’that it?”

“No! No, no, no—far from that! Look at what you’ve done to my organization! It’s infuriating, yes…but admirable. Someone like _you_ has severely compromised this cartel…and you did it with minimal resources. Think about what we could do if we worked together, all that we could accomplish.”

“You mean all that we could destroy.”

The Baron scoffed. “You’ve no morals. People like _you_ got rid of them years ago. I’m sure if I granted you a few million dollars, you’d kill those IGPA agents with little hesitation.”

“I’ll admit I’m not fond of the IGPA—thanks for killing my handler, by the way—so that _does_ sound tempting. But I’m gonna have to decline.”

“Why?” the Baron asked, his voice rising for the first time. “Why work for them when they don’t care about you? They’re just using you to get to people like me, don’t you get that?”

“And you would be using me to get to people _you_ oppose. Also, woulda pulled that trigger by now.”

“Answer me, Cale Tomlik. Why won’t you work for me?”

“Because I’m not that kind of person. And I don’t like working for dumbasses.”

“I am not—” The Baron inhaled sharply. “No…I see what you’re doing. You want me to trip over my own footsteps. You want me to make a mistake so I—”

“See, I keep telling you to pull that trigger.” Cale sucked on his teeth. “And yet here I still stand. You _sure_ you aren’t a dumbass?”

“I KNOW WHAT I AM!” The Baron bellowed, before he snarled and placed his gun beneath Cale’s chin. “What about you, huh? You aren’t a soldier, or a mercenary, or an assassin—none of those! You won’t work for me, and you know the IGPA is just using you, treating you like a meaningless, disposable asset! You’re not a good person—I know you’re not! I know about all the shit you’ve done! You’re just _trying_ to be a good person, putting on a disgusting shroud that you _think_ fools other people! …But maybe I’m wrong. So since you _think_ you’re smarter than me, you tell me then.”

The Baron grinned widely, having lost whatever form of composure he used to have. “Who are you, hmm? Who is Cale Tomlik?”

“Oh, that’s simple.” Cale said, as he flicked his eyes at the Baron’s gun. “Cale Tomlik is the guy who’s gonna beat your ass.”

The Baron yowled as Cale swiped at the fox’s arm, lacerating it with his claws. At the same time, Cale shoved the Baron’s gun away from his head just as the fox fired. He grasped the pistol with his right paw before punching the Baron in the muzzle with his left, knocking him to the floor. Cale released the gun’s magazine before he tore off the slide and tossed the disassembled gun on the floor. He switched to his combat knife, just as the Baron stood from the floor and took out his own. Cale held his knife in a defensive stance, waiting for the Baron to attack first. The fox recklessly charged at Cale and lashed his knife at him several times, going on the offense instead of defense. Their knives clinked against one another several times until Cale saw an opening and slashed at the Baron’s chest. The fox yelped and swiped at Cale three more times, before the lion sidestepped the vulpine and lacerated his arm, ripping his sleeve. Before the Baron could counterattack, Cale slashed against the fox’s chest again, leaving a massive vertical scar on the Baron’s midriff.

The Baron backed away, gasping and panting, already bleeding from his wounds. He gripped his knife tightly and waited for Cale to come towards him instead, stepping carefully towards the table and around the chairs. Cale stomped towards the Baron and swiped his knife at him three times, but the fox backed up and parried all the attacks. The Baron leaned forward, baiting Cale into attacking him—which he did. Before Cale could back up, the Baron speedily slashed at his left arm, causing the feline to shout. Then the Baron stomped forward and stabbed Cale in his abdomen, causing the lion to yowl in pain. He charged for Cale, using the opportunity to try and stab him in the throat, but Cale reached over and slid one of the chairs in front of the fox, which he tripped over. As the fox tumbled, Cale snarled and tried to stab him while he was on the floor, but the fox rolled out the way and stood back up, panting and huffing before the two resumed attacking each other again. Both anthros listened to their blades clacking excessively until Cale took his knife and threw it at the fox’s face.

The flat of the blade bounced against the Baron’s muzzle, but it did its job. The Baron flinched after the blade hit him, and Cale used the opportunity to rush over to the Baron and punch him across the face four times. The Baron lifted his knife and tried to stab Cale, but the lion lifted his right paw and used it as a shield. The knife punctured the cybernetic limb and got stuck, allowing Cale to reach forward and grab the Baron’s neck. He squeezed hard with his left paw, watching as the fox grunted and gasped, losing oxygen fast. Suddenly, the Baron let go of his knife handle and lashed at Cale’s face with the claws on his right paw. Cale screamed again, temporarily blinded, while the Baron wrenched the knife from Cale’s fake paw and rushed forward, tackling him onto the table. The Baron got on top of Cale and tried to stab him, while Cale raised his arms and grabbed the fox’s wrists, gritting his teeth as the blade was only a few inches from his face. Cale could feel the Baron snorting in his face as the fox wagged his fluffy tail, while Cale tried to find an opening to counterattack. He squeezed down on the Baron’s paw with his right paw, hoping to break his entire wrist.

The Baron squinted a few times, feeling just how strong Cale’s artificial paw was. But he ignored it, and kept bringing his knife down. Instinctively, Cale spat in the fox’s face, and the Baron naturally reacted, shouting and jerking his head backwards. Cale kicked the fox off his body and sprinted for his knife, picking it up off the floor just as the Baron lunged for Cale and planted his blade into his back. Cale screamed before he thrust his elbow backwards, banging it into the fox’s long muzzle. Wincing and panting, Cale turned around and lashed his claws at the Baron’s face again, making the fox howl as he stumbled backwards, tripping over the same chair from earlier. Cale huffed and picked up the chair, waiting for the Baron to stand back up. Then he smashed it against the fox’s body, shattering it into nine giant pieces and knocking the Baron over to the table. As the Baron moaned and leaned on top of the table, Cale panted and dragged his footpaws over to him. When he turned the Baron around, the fox kneed the lion in his groin. Cale’s eyes widened as he staggered and fell backwards.

“BITCH! You—AAH!”

The knife squelched as it sank deeper into Cale’s back the moment he hit the floor. Cale whimpered and panted, the wounds getting to him now. The fox growled deeply as he picked up one of the broken chair legs, walked over to Cale, and promptly struck it against his face thrice times, and his chest and abdomen four times. Cale weakly lifted his knife, but the Baron smacked it out of his paw and chuckled. Huffing, Cale looked at the Baron’s bare footpaws, and he snarled as he lunged forward and dug his claws into the flesh so deeply that he immediately drew blood. Then Cale dragged his claws backwards, leaving several incisions that exposed the Baron’s flesh on his footpaw. The Baron shrieked and dropped the chair leg, hopping around on his right footpaw until he tripped over part of the busted furniture and fell backwards, banging his head on the table. As the Baron lied on the floor bleeding from various wounds, Cale groaned as he rolled over on the floor and picked up one of the broken chair legs. He slowly got to his footpaws, coughing and wincing in pain, before he dragged his huge footpaws across the floor and stood in front of the Baron.

Then he raised the chair leg and bashed it against the fox’s face. Cale heard someone banging against the door, but paid no attention to it. He simply lifted his chair leg and smashed it across the Baron’s face four more times, knocking out one of his teeth and bruising the right side of his head. Someone banged on the door a few more times before swearing out loud. Cale huffed as he dropped his chair leg, looking down at the wounded, barely-conscious arctic fox. Suddenly, the office door burst open, and a panting alopid stormed inside.

“CALE! CA…oh.”

Cale turned and looked at Stollar, who was armed with his sliding knife and sweating all over. The lion spat on the floor before smirking.

“You’re late,” Cale said weakly.

Stollar huffed as he walked over to the lion and wiped his face. “Goddamn it, Cale. I thought something happened to you!”

“I’m fine, buddy.”

“You got a knife stuck in your back!”

“Hmm?” Cale reached behind his back and felt a sharp protrusion near his spine. “Oh…well, how ‘bout that.”

Stollar reached behind Cale and removed the knife with a wet squelch. The feline yowled in pain and slouched near the table, wheezing and panting as more blood dripped from his mouth.

“I’ll…I’ll be fine, Stollar. Just get the Baron.”

“Heh, sure,” Stollar said, as he picked up the fox and shoved his body against the table. “I’ll gladly apprehend _Olly_ for you.”

The arctic fox snorted as Stollar took his paws and jerked them behind his back. Then he opened up the metallic rings on the set of handcuffs he had and cuffed the fox.

“Cale, can you walk?” Stollar asked.

The lion snorted as he stood straight up and began to head for the door. “I’ll manage. Just don’t let that fucker out your sight.”

Cale led the way as he walked out into the corridor, while Stollar shoved Olly multiple times as he guided the prisoner over to the elevator.

“What a wonderful mess you’ve made for me,” Olly said coolly. “My lawyers are going to enjoy this.”

“Don’t pull that bullshit with us,” Cale snarled. “You killed several IGPA agents; you’re going to jail even if we _don’t_ connect you to the Quintuple Cartel.”

“Hmph. Did the IGPA serve me a warrant? Was this a _legal_ operation? Knowing you’re working with them, I think not. So since this operation was not legal, s’far as I’m concerned, I’m merely a private citizen who was defending himself from mercenaries and thugs.”

“Mm, yes, yes, you’re right. You’re absolutely right!” Stollar said. “Guess we’ll just have to release you…and you can go downstairs and tell four of your employees why you slaughtered all of their friends.”

Olly’s smirk fell. He looked down at Stollar’s face with wide eyes. “What?”

“Yeeeeeeaaaaaaaaaahhhh, while Cale was busy getting his ass handed to him—”

“Fuck you,” Cale interjected.

“—I was a few floors down rescuing some innocent employees who were in the process of being executed! Something tells me that they’ll happily testify against you in court, and tell the whole universe that you sent your own security personnel to massacre them all.”

“And the last time _I_ checked, this building has security cameras. Betting one of them recorded you shooting Agent Kullwin in the head _before_ he could raise his weapon at you, which nullifies your self-defense angle,” Cale added.

Olly didn’t say anything. He just stared at Stollar and Cale, both of whom were glaring at him with wide, shit-eating grins.

“But please! Feel free to try and explain all of this to your lawyers. I’m sure they’ll be happy to drown alongside you.”

Olly still kept his mouth shut. There was nothing else he could do at this point. He shut his eyes and let out a frustrated breath, while Stollar and Cale entered the elevator and continued to smile proudly to themselves, knowing that the Cartel was finished.


	19. The Victory

The three of them were back in Cale’s spaceship, flying their way to Schrader’s Space Station to place the final head of the Quintuple Cartel in prison. Olly was sitting at the table in the lunchroom, his paws cuffed in front of him instead of behind his back, while Cale and Stollar were covered in several bandages and had some gauze wrapped around small portions of their bodies. Stollar kept himself hydrated, drinking a concoction of yellowish-orange fluids from a bottle, while Cale was busy sorting through some of his personal belongings in his bedroom. Eventually, he came outside, smiling to himself as he held an inexpensive electronic device that stored various digital audio files on it. Cale entered the lunchroom and set the device down on the table Olly sat at, before he took a seat across from the fox.

“Gotta love them humans,” Cale began. “Make such wacky forms of music and entertainment. And since humans have a penchant for software and digital files, it was rather easy for them to deliver songs they created decades or even centuries ago to us anthros. Which is wonderful, because this is the one and _only_ time I’m gonna play this song.”

Olly blinked as Cale reached for the electronic device and turned it on. Then he scrolled through a list of songs and played one of them, before turning the volume up to its maximum setting. Afterwards, Cale put the device down, and the song began to play. Cale smirked widely, Olly listened to the song’s lyrics, and Stollar dropped his bottle of juice and covered his eyes with both his hands.

“Oh. My fucking. _God_. Why this? Why _this_ song?!”

“You knew I was gonna do this, Stollar.”

“You’re like my grandpa trying to act ‘popular’! This shit came out over a hundred years ago; why the fuck are you playing this when hardly anyone even knows what this fuckin’ song is?!”

“Because I want to. Because I choose to. Because I can. Because I know it’ll annoy the ever-loving fuck outta you all.”

Olly blinked and listened to the song’s lyrics, unsure of why Stollar was complaining so much. He looked back up at Cale’s face, and saw he was grinning like a shark, showing all of his teeth. Then he listened closely to the lyrics on the device, and it all made sense.

_What does the fox say?!_

_Ring-ding-ding-ding-dingeringeding!_

_Gering-ding-ding-ding-dingeringeding!_

_Gering-ding-ding-ding-dingeringeding!_

_What the fox say?!_

Olly’s eyes widened.

_Wa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pow!_

_Wa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pa-pow!_

“I fucking hate you, Cale Tomlik,” Stollar snarled, gritting his teeth.

_Hatee-hatee-hatee-ho!_

_Hatee-hatee-hatee-ho!_

_Hatee-hatee-hatee-ho!_

_What the fox say?!_

Olly started gritting his teeth.

_Joff-tchoff-tchoffo-tchoffo-tchoff!_

_Tchoff-tchoff-tchoffo-tchoffo-tchoff!_

_Joff-tchoff-tchoffo-tchoffo-tchoff!"_

_What the fox say?!_

Olly started forming two fists, while Cale continued to grin.

_Big blue eyes,_

_Pointy nose,_

_Chasing mice,_

_And digging holes—_

Olly roared as he grabbed the electronic device and smashed it against the desk several times, shattering it into dozens of small pieces. Cale kept grinning, even as the music immediately stopped playing and all anyone could hear was Olly banging against the table and destroying the device. When Olly finished, the fox huffed several times, nearly frothing at the mouth with fury.

“Are you angry, Olly?” Cale asked calmly.

Olly narrowed his eyes as he looked at the lion’s grin.

“You look angry.”

Sighing, Olly wiped the device’s fragments onto the floor, while Stollar finally lowered his hands and sat down next to Cale.

“So are those your intentions, Tomlik? Tormenting me until we reach my prison cell?”

“As much as I would _love_ to play outdated songs in front of you,” Cale began, before running some of his claws through his mane, “there’s more pressing matters for us to tend to.”

“What pressing matters?” Olly inquired. “You’ve apprehended me. You’ve bested me in combat. What else do you need?”

“Your name, for starters. Getting kind of tired of seeing you as ‘the Baron,’ especially since we know everyone else’s names. Apparently your first name is Olly?”

Olly exhaled as he scratched one of his paws and rolled his tongue around his mouth. “Olly Kurrmor. Satisfied?”

“No,” Stollar bluntly answered. “Give us a list of all your contacts too. If Gobor, Milz, Vogar, and Kolson all had their personal operations going on, surely you do too. Quite frankly, we’d prefer not to have to do all this shit _again_ once your second-in-command decides to take your place.”

“Kolson was my second-in-command. You already caught him.”

“Yeah, he was the second-in-command for the Cartel overall. I’m talking about the second-in-command for _your_ operations.”

Olly scoffed and shook his head. “Too late for that. I beat you to it.”

Cale frowned. “Whatcha mean you beat us to it?”

“Hmm. You two heard about the Purge of Umbernon’s Moon, right?”

Stollar shrugged. “No. Some kind of massacre, judging by the name. What of it?”

“Heh…this apid colonel, err, Colonel Kyllnmik, he was trying to save his people…was trying to get his people to turn against Commander Maynard’s forces. But Colonel Kyllnmik knew he was greatly outnumbered. Still, he fought Commander Maynard’s army anyway—and predictably lost. So what does Colonel Kyllnmik do? He heads back to his hometown on Umbernon’s moon, gathers up everyone in the town, holds a giant feast. Turns out, he poisoned all the food, and everyone slowly but surely drifts off into a sleep, never to wake up again. Survivors all got hunted down by Colonel Kyllnmik’s personal guards, were all mercifully shot in the head. Then the guards all turned the guns on themselves, leaving Colonel Kyllnmik as the sole survivor.”

“Why in god’s name did Colonel Kyllnmik…oh,” Cale said, before staring at Olly scornfully.

Olly smirked. “Commander Maynard found out the hard way that you can’t burn down ashes. Lotta rumors swirled that Colonel Kyllnmik laughed in Commander Maynard’s face, just before the four-armed apid spitefully cut his head off.”

“You son of a bitch,” Stollar growled.

Olly swallowed before saying, “It is… _was_ my organization, remember. Therefore, I had every right to do whatever I wanted to do with how it operated, who was involved in it, and how it ended.”

“None of those people even knew about what you did. One of the hostages I saved didn’t even know your moniker was ‘The Baron.’ Why waste time killing them? Why not just fire them or something?”

“Liabilities.”

“You can’t just call people liabilities! Everyone has a name—”

“They were all meaningless. They were mere junk food, nourishment that simply kept my hunger in check for a temporary amount of time. After you two captured Kolson, they became waste and needed to be purged.”

Stollar shook his head in disgust. “Christ—I don’t know if you’re better or worse than Gobor.”

“I’ve never raped anyone.”

“Never mind; Gobor’s worse.”

Cale folded his arms and scoffed. “That make you a saint? Just because you never stuck your dick into someone without their consent, you think you’re better than people like Gobor Grizzer?”

“I never raped anyone because I saw no purpose behind it. Never had time for it. Never saw anyone _worth_ raping. The one element concerning Gobor that I could not stand was how often he would indiscriminately rape someone he did not need to just to…what? Get rid of an erection? Show off how dominant he was? It made him sloppy, got in the way of his work.”

“And yet you supervised him. You allowed him to become a part of your organization.”

Olly spread his paws against the table, until he heard his handcuffs lightly click. “He had an excellent military background. He escaped from a correctional facility and was smart enough to leave the planet so he didn’t have to worry about getting caught. And he knew how to make bombs, and how to use them.” The fox sighed. “So, yes, I put Gobor under my employment. I knew about his history and what he did to those teenagers. But I told him, so long as he wasn’t reckless and he got his job done, he could do whatever he wanted. So I gave Gobor the money and resources he needed. Helped him become the Chief of Police in that god-forsaken excuse of a city. If I needed him to set off a bomb or shoot up a baseball stadium—”

“Or set off a chemical weapon during a basketball tournament?” Stollar interjected. “That kind of shit?”

Olly smiled. “We needed to make sure just how strong that biological weapon was. You understand.”

“Piece of shit,” Stollar snarled.

“Fine, forget Gobor. What about Dr. Oblingor?” Cale asked.

“Mm…was rather fond of him,” Olly explained. “We thought the same way, you know. He understood that everyone is an asset, nothing more or less. And he understood that once you’re of no value, you must be disposed of. But like Gobor, he had his own…fixations. And like Gobor, I enjoyed his work; he always delivered. But sometimes he’d spend too much time focusing on tormenting all those anthros he cooked up in his labs.”

“I’m assuming you looked away from his misdeeds too?”

“I’m not going to punish my minions everytime I catch them picking their nose.”

“Tell that to Milz Dillvor,” Stollar said, before scratching his nose.

“Oh, her?” Olly rubbed his cheek. “I thoroughly enjoyed her work. And she always excelled in everything she did, no matter the target.”

“You didn’t mind that she had her own personal life and made her own friends and family?”

“Of course not. If an assassin lives alone and is antisocial, the authorities would suspect someone like Milz immediately. But if she’s just another ordinary civilian, problem solved. The only problem is that the dumb bitch genuinely cared about the people around her. Made her sloppy in the end.”

“Which leads us to Kolson,” Cale responded.

“Tch. Kolson was weak. He couldn’t handle all the tasks I was giving him, and he slowly crumbled under all the pressure. I shouldn’t be surprised at all that you caught him. Probably should’ve killed him years ago, but he seemed like one of the few people I could trust. Guess I made an error in judgement there.”

“So you’re a wonderful boss. Gotcha,” Stollar said sarcastically. “You may as well answer the million dollar question now.”

“Which is…?”

“Why?”

Olly raised an eyebrow. “Because I made billions of dollars?”

“And?”

Olly lifted his paws and stammered. “What ‘and’? I’m a multibillionaire. Do I need to go on?”

Stollar and Cale stared at Olly scornfully. When the fox noticed that both creatures were breathing heavily and struggling not to leap over the table to attack him, Olly closed his eyes and slowly set his paws down on the table.

“Oh. My apologies. You were expecting more after going through so much trouble of catching me. You were expecting me to go on a rant about how much I hate society…or that the universe treated me terribly as a pup.”

“You could at least lie and say your father was some big-time millionaire who molested you and corrupted your viewpoint on life,” Stollar suggested.

“Lemme ask you two something: why are you two bounty hunting if you aren’t in it for the money?”

“Because I enjoy getting paid to lock up criminals like you,” Stollar responded.

“Because I enjoy getting paid to beat the shit outta criminals like you without anyone scrutinizing my actions. And because it’s…it’s basically a way to put out the fires I set when I was younger,” Cale responded.

“Interesting. Would you two still be doing this if you weren’t getting paid?”

“I have to pay for this spaceship and my weapons _somehow_ ,” Cale explained.

“And yet neither of you are bank robbers. Neither of you _stole_ this ship.” Olly paused for a moment as he pondered and scratched his chin. “Fascinating.”

“This isn’t rocket science, dibshit. We’re just not monstrous like you are,” said Stollar.

“Monstrous?” Olly looked at alopid and grinned, showing off his white teeth. “What’s so monstrous about wanting money? Don’t you two enjoy making money? Don’t you enjoy using all that money to buy dozens of rewards for yourselves?”

“Not if it means hurting or killing someone else!”

Olly snapped his fingers. “ _There_. That’s it. You _think_ you’re better than me. You say you don’t wanna hurt people, yet your partner openly admitted to enjoying ‘beating the shit’ outta criminals like me…something tells me you enjoy it too.”

Stollar exhaled and rolled his eyes. “I meant we don’t hurt _innocent_ people.”

“Bad people, or what you proclaim to be ‘bad’ people, are still people. And you two are still essentially hurting them for your personal gain.”

“I’m sorry, but no. You aren’t playing that card with us. Gobor tried and failed; don’t think you’re any smarter than he is when it comes to all this morality shit. If I had the option to choose between not hurting _anyone_ , and hurting some asshole who raped his entire football team, I’m picking the latter!”

“And yet you two claim to be ‘good’ people. You two _think_ you’re heroes, when you’re just thugs who walk around wearing capes and masks.”

“At no point did either of us say we’re heroes, or even good people,” Cale interrupted. “We know we’re not good people.”

“We’re just better than you are,” Stollar said afterwards.

“Hmph. ‘Better,’ he says,” murmured Olly, before he scratched his chin. “And just _how_ are you better than me when you’re being shackled the entire time?”

“What?” Cale asked.

“Shackles? Chains? They’re primarily used on slaves, but they can also be useful in terms—”

“I know what shackles are,” the lion snarled. “And I sure as hell know I’m not wearing any.”

Olly smiled again. “Yes, you are. Both of you are. Embedded into these shackles is the word ‘morality,’ if you catch my drift.”

Stollar took a huge breath as he squeezed his eyes. “Here we go with this again…”

Olly held up a paw. “No, no, just let me explain. When I was a pup, I saw this cub with a popsicle I wanted. He got it from a frozen dessert shop my mother always took me to. So I go to the same shop, and I order one for myself. The server tells me that they were out of stock, and that cub bought the last one. I threw a temper tantrum, unsurprisingly. Mother scolded me, eventually slapped me, told me that sometimes in life, you can’t get the things that you want. But I told her, ‘Yes, Mom, you’re right. There are some things I _can’t_ get. But I _can_ get that popsicle.’ So I ran away from my mother. Found that cub with the popsicle.”

“You stole it from him,” Cale concluded.

“No.” Olly blinked. “Well, yes, but not immediately. I tried to be nice. I tried asking him politely for a lick. Not-not even the whole popsicle bar. I just wanted a lick. He said no. I asked him again. He said no. I tried to make up some backstory saying that my mother was abusive and that was the only time she let me out of the house. The cub still said no. _Then_ I stole it from him.”

“And you ran away like a little bitch while the cub cried to himself.”

“No. The cub stole the popsicle right back from me. I got frustrated, just around the time I saw an SUV coming down the street. So I waited. The cub’s mother was busy talking to one of her friends or something. I dunno. Point is she wasn’t looking at her child. The timing was perfect. I snatched the popsicle from the cub, and promptly shoved him out into the middle of the street. Cub tripped and fell, and the driver in the SUV couldn’t stop before the front tires crushed his skull and legs.”

“Fucker,” Stollar snarled.

Olly grinned. “I just walked away, blended into the crowd before anyone figured out it was me. And I ate the rest of the popsicle with satisfaction.”

“Was it worth killing an innocent cub for it? Was it seriously worth murdering some mother and father’s child just so _you_ could be happy?”

“Yes, it was.”

Cale noticed that Stollar was curling his fingers into a fist. He slowly reached over and grabbed Stollar’s arm, shaking his head and convincing him not to give in to the fox’s bait. The alopid gradually uncurled his fingers and let out a soft breath, while Olly sniffed.

“That’s just something I don’t understand about people like you. You can rid yourselves of your shackles, and you _choose_ to keep them on. It’s genuinely perplexing. Maybe that’s why I tolerated people like Gobor Grizzer and Dr. Oblingor. At least both of them didn’t care about the ‘evil’ they were doing. At least Milz Dillvor killed people because she wanted to, because I know she enjoyed it. Even Kolson chose to work for someone like me, because he just wanted people to notice him. He didn’t give a damn that he was selling illegal, harmful items and weapons to people. He wanted fame. He got it.”

Cale chuckled. “Shackles, huh?”

“Yes. Even you have to admit that you’re wearing them at all times.”

“And yet I still kicked your ass, despite your immorality strengthening you. And yet I still destroyed Kolson’s smuggling operation, despite his vast amount of resources. And yet Stollar still blew up that cache of pathogen that was supposed to be used to destroy a moon, even though he’s nowhere near as experienced in the field as I am. And yet I still caught Milz Dillvor, despite her being physically more agile than me. And yet I still caught Vogar, despite him being smarter than me. And yet both me _and_ Stollar apprehended and castrated Gobor Grizzer, despite him being stronger than us.”

Olly glared at Cale and Stollar, watching as both of them started to smirk, while the fox just frowned.

“But please, go on and continue to tell me that these ‘shackles’ are a deterrent.”

Olly didn’t have a proper comeback. He knew he didn’t, as did Stollar and Cale. Both of them continued to smugly smirk at the fox, watching as the vulpine gradually began to realize that there was nothing he could say that would break their spirits. And yet, the arctic fox still tried, and he found himself snarling quietly as he repeatedly curled his fingers.

“You think you’ve won,” he said, ice dripping with his words.

Cale stared at the fox’s eyes and seemed disturbed as how menacing they were. His blue eyes seemed uncanny now, as if the vulpine had some supernatural presence to him. Olly grinned slowly and let out a raspy laugh.

“You think you’ve won!”

“We did win,” Stollar pointed out.

“No,” Olly said, shaking his head. “You haven’t. You never will. You think it all ends just because I’m going to prison? You think you saved hundreds of millions of people just because you stopped me? You didn’t stop Commander Maynard, you know. And I doubt he’s gonna abort his plans just because _I_ failed.”

Cale couldn’t help but stiffen at that fact. At the same time, he knew Olly was baiting him again, so he didn’t respond.

“You think that once I’m gone, all the evil in this galaxy and across the cosmos will simply disappear? Uh-uh…nah. I’m just a tiny _speck_ in this universe. And there are millions of other people out there like me. People like you think that every _single_ life matters, when it doesn’t in the grand scheme of it all. And people like you are going to spend your whole lives running around in a circle trying to save as many people as possible, while your personal lives gradually crumble into nothing. And then, once _you’re_ gone? Heh…people like me will still be around pissing on your corpses.”

Cale shrugged. “That’s okay. When I’m gone, I’ll be replaced. And my replacement will be the one to piss on _your_ corpse.”

Olly swore quietly and found himself forming two fists again. Cale rose from his stool and walked over to Olly, roughly picking up the fox and shoving him over to the same room he held all of his prisoners in. Without a single word, Cale pushed the fox into the room, and then he backed away and activated the automatic door. The door locked shortly after it closed, at which point Cale closed his eyes and let out a deep breath. He leaned against the wall and shut his eyes, taking a few more deep breaths as Stollar looked at him worryingly.

“Cale?”

The lion exhaled and squeezed the bridge of his muzzle, just between his eyes.

“Cale, it’s over. We got him. Please stay calm…”

The lion huffed and nodded. “Right…right. I’m all right. Just didn’t think we’d actually get this far…”

“Tch! You serious? You got _me_ as your partner, buddy!”

“Right, sure. That’s why _I_ was the one who physically captured Olly and you didn’t do a damn thing to help me.”

Stollar looked up at Cale’s face and realized he was smirking to himself. The alopid scoffed as he punched the lion in his right arm, and Cale laughed.

“You’re gonna stop doing that.”

“Make me,” Cale dared.

“I’ll chain your ass to your bed and force you to watch _Blaster Omega’s Kitty Show_ with me.”

Cale shrugged. “Fine. I’ll just practice playing the tuba again the entire time.”

Stollar glared at the lion as he smiled cheekily at him.

“Fuck you, Cale.”

“Love you too, buddy.”

_____________________________________________

Olly Kurrmor grunted as Cale and Stollar shoved him into a prison cell within Schrader’s Space Station. The arctic fox took a few breaths as he looked around his cramped, dank cell that only had a cot and a filthy toilet inside of it. He heard the door slam and lock behind him, moments before Stollar and Cale walked away from the cell. Knowing there was nothing left, Olly sat down on his cot, his tail and ears going limp as he waited to be transferred to a correctional facility. Meanwhile, Stollar and Cale walked away from the main cell block and headed for the same private cell they always met up in whenever they didn’t want the other convicts listening in on their conversations. Once they were inside, Stollar grabbed his head and smiled widely.

“OHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH MY FUCKING GOD!” he yelled.

Cale grimaced as he looked down at the alopid. “Hell’s your problem?”

“Ohhhhh, this feels good,” Stollar said, bending over and laughing uncontrollably. “This feels so damn _good_!”

“Mm. You overdose on dopamine pills?”

“ _Yes_. Otherwise I would be swearing at you and your goddamn snarky attitude.”

Even with Stollar’s outburst, Cale couldn’t help but fold his arms as he smiled at the short alien. Stollar giggled as he sat on the cot within the cell and leaned against the wall, letting out a long breath.

“Ohhhh maybe…maybe, maybe, maybe this will all be for the better…this’ll all bring just a _small_ fraction of peace to this galaxy.”

“Commander Maynard is still out there. And we recently armed a mob boss with plasma weapons. And I’m sure the fallout in Knochen City—”

“I’m not ignoring you. I’m just basking in the dopamine.”

Cale scoffed and shook his head, still smiling. “Yeah, yeah. No point in shitting on your parade.”

After Stollar finished soaking in all the dopamine, Cale sat down beside him, causing the cot to creak.

“I know how it works, Cale,” Stollar said. “I know it never ends. As much as I don’t wanna agree with Olly, I know there’s a thousand or even a million other criminals for us to apprehend.”

“Unfortunately.”

Stollar exhaled and shook his head. “Well…was fun enjoying that while it lasted. Guess after we get paid, it’s back to looking for more bounties?”

Cale blinked and shook his head. “You know what? Nah. No. We took down a whole cartel. And both of us almost got killed too many times to count.”

“My teeth are _still_ in the process of growing back,” Stollar mumbled.

“Exactly. IGPA doesn’t need us each and every day. Now’s the perfect time to go on vacation.”

Stollar’s eyes widened as he turned and stared at Cale. “You’re shitting me.”

Cale smiled. “We’ve earned it, last I checked. A week, maybe ten days. It only seems fair.”

“Awesome!” Stollar giggled. “So where you wanna go? You wanna head to Wormill Central? Ooh, actually, we could head back to LynKaster City! Or maybe we’ll go back over to Markilia! Hehe, betcha wanna ‘see’ Wyatt again, dont’cha?” the alopid teased.

“Those all sound like fantastic ideas, but I know where we should go.”

“Specify.”

Cale chuckled. “Tell me, you don’t got a problem with sand, right?”

“No. Why?”

“You’ll see…”


	20. The Aftermath

Milz Dillvor panted as she sprinted through the halls, looking down at the guide one of her fellow inmates left for her. She knew someone could spot her immediately, but that was all right. If the information she received was accurate, then this area of the prison should be abandoned. Clad in her short-sleeved yellow prison shirt and long pants, the rabbit exhaled as she punched open one of the doors and was outside in the courtyard. All the lights in the watch towers were off—as she was told they would be. The barbs on the fence just near one of the walls had been taken off—as she was told they would be. So Milz took a huge breath and sprinted forward, her gray fur already getting soaked in sweat, her bare footpaws sore from all the running she had been doing tonight. The rabbit leaped forward and latched onto the fence, causing it to shake. Panting, she quickly scaled the fence and got to the top, before looking at the perimeter wall just a few feet away. The rabbit clung onto the fence and looked around. Then she leaped for the wall, twisting her body and grunting once she grabbed the wall and quickly climbed on top of it. She walked forward and spotted a drain pipe leading down to the rooftop of a smaller series of buildings. Grabbing the metal pipe, the rabbit slid down the cylindrical device and grunted once she landed on the roof. Milz started to sprint forward.

And shrieked when she broke through the fragile roof with a series of clutters as brick and concrete broke apart. The rabbit shouted when she banged her back against a table and rolled off, landing on the floor as a pile of mortar and dust fell onto her back, getting into her sweaty fur and ruining her prison uniform. Milz exhaled harshly, dust blowing forward from her breath, before she noticed a prison guard in her black and blue uniform sitting comfortable in a chair drinking coffee, acting as if Milz’s sudden appearance had no effect on her. The feline gazing at Milz’s wounded body set her coffee mug down on the table and exhaled.

“Hi, Dillvor.”

“Hey,” Milz said casually.

“Tried to escape again?”

“Yeeeeeeaaaaaaaahhhh.”

“Made a mistake again?”

“Yeeeeeeaaaaaaaahhhh.”

“Mm. I actually had the construction workers remodel the roof of this building. Word was going around that some prisoners were gonna try to escape crossing the break room’s rooftop, so figured I may as well create a hole in the ceiling and replace it with fragile roof shingles.”

“Of course you did.”

The cat exhaled as she stood up and walked over to Milz’s battered body. She lifted the rabbit off the floor and wiped some of the chunks of mortar off her uniform.

“C’mon, let’s take you back to your cell.”

As the prison guard took Milz outside the building, the rabbit smirked and chuckled. “I’m getting outta here someday.”

“You keep telling yourself that.”

____________________________________

“…Tomlik…”

Everything was black. Vogar Oblingor couldn’t see anything, but he could hear distorted voices around him, indistinct chatter that would only make sense if anyone was standing close to him.

“Kill…Tomlik…”

The molting alien screamed as another piece of his body was cut off. Someone in the background was talking about taking the piece to run more tests on it. Someone else laughed, mentioning how he did it just to see if Vogar would finally shut his mouth.

“Tom…lik…”

That was all he could see in his head now. The burly lion who stormed his lab. The feline who survived an assault from one of his feral creations and even killed most of his security guards. The overweight crocodile who assisted him and somehow managed to get away. He vividly remembered seeing his flesh molting, his scales falling off as his body decayed. All that hard work, and now there was nothing Vogar could do to repair the damage.

And it was all because of Cale Tomlik.

“Kill…Tom…lik…”

“Shut…already! So fuckin’…voice!”

Someone walked up to Vogar and stuffed a gag into his mouth. He felt the moldy cloth simmering around in his slimy maw, and he rebelliously spat it back out. Vogar turned his head, not knowing who or what to look at, and laughed weakly, his hollow eye sockets providing no vision.

“I’m…I’m coming…I’m…coming…for Tomlik.”

“Yes, yes, we know! You’ve fuckin’ said that a million times now!”

“Caaaaaaaaalllllleeee…I’m coming…I’m com—AGGH!”

Someone stuck their paw deep into his throat and removed his tongue. It wasn’t hard. The pathogens he was exposed to turned half of his internal organs into taffy. The anthro who yanked out his tongue thought he was just grabbing a moldy piece of stretchy candy. Once the tongue was out, Vogar gurgled and vomited up some blood and bile, causing the scientists around him to groan with disgust.

“Fuck…more tests! You want…scalpel or lasers?”

“Lasers. It’ll…flesh easier.”

Everything was black. He couldn’t see anything, but he could hear distorted voices around him, indistinct chatter that would only make sense if anyone was standing close to him. Something began to whir, emitting a high-pitched whine. And then Vogar whimpered as he felt scorching flames pulsing around his body, moving around in a strange, programmed pattern. For once, Vogar was very happy that he didn’t have eyes any more.

He didn’t want to see what the scientists were doing to his body.

_________________________________________

Larry Wentworth. He heard the name before on various occasions, but he didn’t expect to be thrown in the same prison as him. Gobor Grizzer panted as he was thrown down to his knees in front of the bull terrier, the floor still wet from the previous showers the prisoners took. Breathing softly, the naked, burly blue-nosed pit bull looked up at the nude, chubby bull terrier, gazing at his white fur and the tattoos spread around his body. Larry smirked as he wagged his tail and looked at Gobor.

“Real thick boy,” he said, his voice deep.

The bull terrier walked up to Gobor and ran a finger against Gobor’s wet fur, examining his abs. Gobor growled gutturally, and Larry moved his finger away.

“Hey. We all faggots here. Ain’t that right boys?”

The two canines standing behind Gobor nodded and agreed with Larry. The bull terrier crouched down and got in the bigger canine’s face.

“See? Ain’t got nothing to be ashamed of here! Just a big ol’ community of fags fuckin’ each other.”

“Back the fuck up.”

“Why? Am I making you uncomfortable?”

“I ain’t tryin’ to smell your funky-ass breath. I ain’t tryin’ to be your fuckin’ friend. Just leave me the fuck alone.”

Larry lifted his head and backed away from Gobor, rubbing his chin. “Huh. Big boy here says my breath stinks.”

“It does,” one of Larry cronies responded.

“Shut up, Tarket. Hmm…well. You know, your breath ain’t so fresh either, Gobor.”

Gobor looked at Larry’s shaft, noticing that his penis was gradually becoming erect. He looked back up at Larry as the dog folded his arms.

“I should wash your mouth out…the smell of my cock on your breath is much more pleasing. I’m sure many of the other prisoners will enjoy the odor too.”

“Fuck you.”

“No, no.” Larry spun his right index finger around in a circle. “Other way around.”

“I ain’t suckin’ your cock.”

Larry clapped his paws together. “Listen. I know who you are, Grizzer. I know about all the rapes you committed. I know you basically ran Knochen City. That whole city was your domain. You were the top dog there. And hey, that’s fine! What you earned is yours to keep!”

Larry bent back down, grinning as he got in Gobor’s face. “But you fucked it up. You lost it all to some kitty-cat. And now you’re in _my_ domain. And in _my_ domain, you do what I say, and we won’t have any problems. We clear?”

“I told you before: get your stank-ass breath out my fuckin’ face,” Gobor said, still protesting.

Larry blinked as he backed away from the canine, rubbing his chin. Then he nodded. “Understandable…you…you don’t wanna be submissive. I get that. Because I’m in such a great mood today, I’ll give you a second option!”

Gobor kept staring at the bull terrier, watching as the dog turned around, showing off his chiseled back and his plump white buttocks. The dog suddenly squatted down as he placed his paws on his knees, grunting. Then Gobor heard a few tiny farts and listened to Larry grunting.

_You gotta be fucking kidding me_ , Gobor thought.

Gobor looked away. He didn’t need to ask what Larry was doing; he did the exact same thing to Cale Tomlik weeks ago. Gobor scrunched up his face after Larry finished defecating on the floor. The bull terrier exhaled as he stood back up and turned around, gesturing towards his pile of waste.

“Eat that.”

“No.”

“One of two things is going in your mouth. Either my cock or my shit. You choose.”

There was no way around any of this. If he tried to fight any of them, they’d overpower him. He noticed one of the dogs carrying a shiv with him; all he had to do was jam it into his neck and he’d be done for. His body was already bruised from the beating Larry’s dogs gave him earlier; he didn’t have enough strength to fight back. So Gobor looked down at the excrement on the floor and swallowed hard. Then he got on all fours, bent down, and started eating it. Larry smiled widely as he stared at the pit bull, listening to him retching and smacking as he tried to consume it all.

“There…you see? Not so bad once you get used to the taste.”

Gobor didn’t say anything. He just kept eating, telling himself to suck it up. He’d deal with Larry and his cronies later. He’d deal with Cale Tomlik and Stollar later. He’d reclaim Knochen City later. He just had to suck it up for now. As Gobor finished, he looked up and realized Larry wasn’t in front of him anymore. And it wasn’t until he felt Larry’s penis getting shoved into his rectum that he realized he made a horrible mistake. He screamed. He cried. He begged for Larry to stop, but he didn’t. He told Larry that he did what he wanted him to do. But he didn’t care. And then he thought back to what he did to Cale Tomlik, and cursed himself for what fate was doing to him. When Larry finished, Gobor collapsed onto the floor, shivering and sobbing near the wall, hot tears coming out of his eyes and semen dribbling from his anus. Larry crouched down beside Gobor’s head and nodded.

“So that-that phrase them humans invented: don’t drop the soap? Hmph. Clearly you ain’t heard of that. Otherwise you wouldn’t have been stupid enough to expose your ass around someone like me. No wonder some kitty-cat blew your dick off.”

“I’m—” Gobor sniffled and sobbed. “I’m-I’m gonna fuckin’ kill you. I’m gonna fuckin’ kill all—”

“Nooooooo, no, no. Nah. See, I know the difference between a dog and a bitch. Bitches _act_ like they’re dogs, but when you put your dick in their mouths, they start suckin’. Now, a dog? Dogs bite down. Dogs bite it _off_. Dogs also mark what’s theirs. Guess which one you are?”

Gobor didn’t answer. He just lied on the floor and continued to whimper, fully knowing what Larry was about to do next. The bull terrier aimed his penis at the pit bull and started peeing on him. Gobor shut his eyes and gritted his teeth, fully remembering what he did to Cale Tomlik, and cursing himself yet again. Part of Gobor wished he had treated Cale more kindly—maybe he wouldn’t be stuck in the same prison as Larry Wentworth. At the same time, Gobor couldn’t deny that he enjoyed what he did to Cale—even if fate was throwing it all back in his face. Once Larry finished, the bull terrier sighed and wagged his tail.

“I’ll be seeing you again, Grizzer. And the next time, I won’t be giving you an option.”

Gobor still remained silent. He listened to Larry and his cronies walking out of the shower, while he lied still on the floor, still sniffling. This wasn’t fair. So what if he raped a few dozen anthros? So what if he blew up a few—several buildings? So what if he abused his power as the Chief of Police? He didn’t deserve this—he didn’t deserve _any_ of it. That’s what Gobor kept telling himself.

Anyone else would tell Gobor Grizzer that he deserved far worse.

_______________________________________________

“Jolson. Shredded beef. Monday. Five p.m.”

The oversized moose standing on the other side of the metal table nodded. “Gotcha!”

Kolson Arcornoc grunted as he slowly shifted over to his left, now wearing a pair of dark orange trousers and showing off his sweaty chest. The rest of the anthros inside of the kitchen were wearing similar clothing; some wore orange shirts, while others were merely shirtless or wearing a sweaty tank-top.

“Edgar. Fried eggs. Tuesday. Eleven a.m. And actually cook the damn things all the way through. Unless you want all of us catching salmonella.”

The lithe cougar wagged his tail and scratched his scalp. “I dunno what that means.”

“Course ya don’t.”

Kolson shifted over to the third anthro. “Colin. Same time as Edgar. Brownies. Minus the laxatives. Or I will stab you with a pencil.”

The chubby brown rat stammered and grinned sheepishly. “It wasn’t me! Blame Edgar; he was the one who didn’t cook the eggs enough last Tuesday!”

“The guards found a note saying you wanted to pull a foul and messy prank on the humans. Diarrhea splattering on the floor isn’t messy and foul?”

“Not where I come from.”

Kolson narrowed his eyes.

“Okaaaaaaaaaay, fine. I won’t put any laxatives in the brownies. _This_ week.”

“Good enough.”

Kolson moved to the fourth anthro. “Nogo. Tacos. Friday. Five p.m. Easy on the spices this time, _please_.”

The hefty, shirtless lizard wagged his tail and folded his arms as he grinned. “It burn yer arse on the way out, Kolson?”

The brown goat grumbled to himself as he glared at Nogo’s smirk, and then he shifted over to the fifth anthro.

“Guren. Dishwasher. All week.”

“WHAT!” protested the shirtless white hare with blotches of black fur. “THAT ISN’T FAIR! Why do I gotta do all the fuckin’ scrubbin’ and cleanin’?!”

“Because in the past two minutes, I’ve seen you scratch your ass crack _three times_. I’ll be damned if I have you cooking our food.”

“It’s itchy! What the fuck am I supposed to do: stick a dildo up there and hope the itch goes away?!”

“Ya could shower, fer starters,” Nogo mentioned.

Every anthro in the kitchen chuckled after hearing Nogo’s comment, while Guren groaned as he kicked at the floor, pouting and murmuring to himself. Kolson smirked as he shifted over to the final anthro and huffed.

“Todd. Getting out next week. Can’t bust your balls no more. Shame.”

The brawny bull chuckled and wagged his tail. “Hey. I deserve it mate. Twenty years, four stabbings, five missing teeth—think I earned it.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, sure. Anyway, hamburgers—”

“Fuck you.”

“—All week—”

“FUCK YOU!”

Kolson grinned. “Deal with it. Everyone loves your beef, Todd.”

The other inmates standing in the kitchen chuckled after hearing Kolson’s comment, while Todd pouted and folded his arms.

“I’m gon’ spit in all y’alls food.”

“You keep telling yourself that. All right, that’s everything. You can head back to your cells now.”

The six inmates nodded and all walked out of the kitchen chattering with each other. Kolson exhaled as he leaned against the wall and rubbed his face, while two prison guards clad in black uniforms approached the goat.

“I’m all right, guys. I’m all right.”

“No, ya ain’t,” said one guard. “Heard some chatter goin’ around that you barely sleep more than two hours a day. I know inmates get out early ‘cause of good behavior, but _damn_.”

Kolson smirked as he looked at the guards. “I’m assigning inmates to cook food, iron clothes, and clean the prison. I got put in here for assigning couriers to smuggle weapons and drugs across the entire _universe_. Trust me, I am _not_ tired.”

Sighing, Kolson moved away from the wall and walked out of the kitchen. Putting his hands in his pockets, the goat wiggled his nose as he headed back to his cell.

____________________________________________

The arctic fox blinked as he kept staring at the clock in front of him. He looked around his tiny cell that had nothing inside of it except for a sink, a toilet, and the bed he was sitting on. Olly was happy that he was in solitary confinement, away from all of the other prisoners who were looking to kill him. At the same time, he despised how quiet it was. No one was talking or groaning in any of the other cells. No water was dripping from the sink, no guards were sparking a conversation about recent events; Olly couldn’t even hear one of the prisoners urinating or flushing their toilet. The fox took a few deep breaths and looked at the old clock in front of him.

_TICK._

It was nearly broken. An entire hour had gone by, but the clock only ticked twice. The fox slowly wiped some sweat from his forehead before adjusting his tank-top and orange pants. He bit the tip of his right thumb, still debating if there was a way out his current situation. Afterwards, the fox heard a few footsteps, and one of the guards smacked his nightstick against Olly’s cell door.

“Got a visitor,” the guard said, before unlocking the door.

Olly stood up and raised an eyebrow. “Visitor? I don’t have any relatives, and I didn’t beckon anyone.”

“Like I said, got a visitor.”

The cell door clanked as it was slid open. Olly looked out into the corridor and grimaced when the rank odor of fish filled his nostrils. He saw a tall, menacing beast standing in front of the open cell, a beast so tall that he had to crouch just to walk into Olly’s cell. Once inside, the guard shut the cell door, and the beast grunted after banging his head against the ceiling.

“OW! Fuckin’ tiny-ass cells,” the beast snarled as he rubbed his head.

Olly stared at the beast and immediately backed away. The creature inside of the cell was a tall brownish-gray tiger shark, one over seven feet in height. He was wearing the same clothes as Olly, just a pair of orange trousers and a white tank-top. The fox stared at the gills on the sides of the shark’s neck, watching as they moved gently whenever he breathed. The shark walked up to Olly and exhaled heavily; the fox grimaced as the stench of hot garbage and carrion flowed from the shark’s mouth. 

“How ya doin’, Olly?”

Olly’s heart almost stopped. “Doug…Douglas Kevro. Douglas _fucking_ Kevro.”

“Did you miss me?” he asked, with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“How the fuck did you get in here?”

Douglas stared at the fox. He turned around and looked at the cell door. And then he looked down at Olly again. “Did you not see me walk in?”

Olly rolled his eyes. “Forgot you do that…listen, my operations; they have nothing to do with you, understand? I kept your name out of everything. It doesn’t matter anyway; I-I burned it all down. Everyone connected to me is dead or in jail. They won’t find anything on you.”

Douglas nodded. “Mm-hmm.”

Olly flicked his eyes at the clock again. It still wasn’t ticking. “We could become allies now. We’re both incarcerated; we could help each other out. We’re both low on power, but combined, we could muster enough strength to refuel ourselves, rebuild our structure.”

“My incarceration’s only temporary. I’m just here to take care of business, as usual. Should be out in a month or so.”

Doug looked around Olly’s cell and blinked. “Judging by this cell, I’m assuming you’re gonna be here for the rest of your life.”

Olly huffed and looked at the clock again. It still wasn’t ticking. “I’ve got arrangements as well,” he lied. “Should be out in a year, maybe less if I’m on good behavior. Lawyers—”

Douglas dug into his right pocket and took out a switchblade knife. He pressed down on a small button, and the blade clicked noisily as it popped out of the mechanism. Olly looked at the clock again. Still no ticking.

“I won’t say anything about you, Kevro,” Olly reassured.

Doug shrugged and took a step forward. “I know.”

Olly’s eyes watered. “You don’t…I won’t be a liability to you, Kevro.”

Doug shrugged and stepped forward again. “I know.”

“Then put the piece away.”

Douglas leaned down and softly patted Olly’s head before running his beefy hand between his ears. “Olly, Olly, Olly…s’always the same with you youngsters. You just don’t have the experience…just don’t have the skills. I appreciate you trying, Olly. Really, I do. And I’ve made so much money working with you, with your associates. But everything has fallen. You’re of no use to me now.”

Olly swallowed and found himself pinned against the wall. He looked at the clock. It wasn’t ticking.

“That’s not…that’s not true. You know it’s not.”

Douglas huffed as he twirled the knife around a few times. “I _thought_ it wasn’t. But now that you’re in here, hmph. It’s a fact.”

“Kev—”

“Shut up. See, Olly, you are _not_ a predator. You’re a whale. You saw yourself as prey so…so you changed your appearance. You gave yourself a dorsal fin similar to mine. You painted your body to look like mine. You smothered yourself in fish, so you smell like me. You even forced yourself to eat carrion so your breath would stink of it—something _a lot_ of people have bluntly commented about with me. Everytime you walk, you talk, people would assume you were a shark. And because of how big and fat you are, no one would fuck with you. Your size intimidated everyone. And no one wanted to go against you; they wanted to be your friend, be on the ‘winning side,’ sorta speak. Even sharks like me wouldn’t dare come near you.”

Douglas grinned as he tapped his knife against Olly’s moist nose. “But us sharks—us _real_ sharks? We smell that blubber and whale funk beneath your façade. And then one day…one day, your disguise comes off. Everyone sees who you really are: a harmless, helpless, floundering sack of fat and flesh that is just waiting to be picked clean by the real predators. It is far, _far_ too late for you to put your disguise back on, Olly. …Don’t act so surprised. If I was in your position, you’d be in mine. Sure, we had some ‘good times’ and all, but once you saw my fat ass, you’d swim up behind me and take a chunk out the second you could.”

Olly closed his eyes slowly and exhaled. He didn’t bother looking at the clock again. When he opened his eyes back up, Olly smirked and shook his head as a few tears ran down his face.

“You’re absolutely right. Suppose you beat me to the punch.”

“This was gonna happen sooner or later. To _you_ , not to me. I wouldn’t have been foolish enough to make your mistakes.”

The fox chuckled as he stared at the shark and wiped his tears away. “There’s nothing I can say to stop you.”

“Not a damn thing.”

Olly didn’t bother fighting the shark. Physically, he couldn’t; Doug would overpower him immediately. So the fox took a deep breath as he shrugged and sniffled.

“Do what you have to,” Olly coolly stated.

Douglas stuck his blade into Olly’s throat. The fox immediately coughed up blood, moments before Doug slowly turned the knife and slid it across the vulpine’s neck. He removed the blade with a wet squelch, and warm blood started to flow down Olly’s neck, staining his tank-top. As Olly gagged and coughed, Doug nonchalantly wiped the blood off on the fox’s tank-top before smirking, turning around, and opening the cell door. The guard immediately closed and locked the cell door once Doug was outside, smirking as he gazed at Olly’s body. The fox sat on the floor, now silent as more blood descended from his throat. Olly looked up at the clock one more time, hoping to hear it tick once more. But it remained silent. 

The fox blinked slowly and smirked to himself before he lowered his head and relaxed his body.

______________________________________

Waves crashed into the sandy beach. Warm wind blew in everyone’s faces, carrying the fresh scent of the sea. Children and adults alike were laughing and playing in the sand or in the waves, not caring about how wet they got or how much sand they got into their shorts. The sun shined brightly, warming everyone’s fur, skin, and scales. And somewhere in the midst of it all, a shirtless lion and alopid were sitting on the beach wearing only a pair of swimming trunks with a floral pattern on them. Cale smiled as he curled his toes and gazed at the ocean, while Stollar fidgeted with his black shorts with green flowers on them.

“MMF! This shit is tightening all around my balls—why are we at the beach again? I mean it’s nice, but…you know. Was expecting some kinda exotic desert city or something. Y’know, the ones that have those clubs with the belly dancers?”

“Keevonu and I had our last date here,” Cale said.

Stollar immediately frowned, his ears lowering. “Oh.”

“Relax, it’s…I’ve accepted it now. We both have.”

“Still, I’m sure this must bring back memories…”

“Certainly. We used to joke that we could ejaculate all across the beach and no one would ever notice.”

The alien slowly lifted his hands out the sand and looked at them, checking to see if something sticky was on his fingers. Cale looked at the alopid and chuckled, while Stollar glared at him.

“That’s not funny. I ain’t trying to have someone’s spooge all over my hands, ‘specially after that bullshit we went through with Gobor and his gang!”

“And yet you still put mayonnaise on your sandwiches.”

Stollar shut his eyes and rubbed the sides of his head. “Please don’t put _that_ image in my head.”

“Okay, fine, fine. I’ll just get you a lion dong.”

“Don’t you mean a hot—” Stollar opened his eyes. Cale was grinning cheekily as he lowered his trunks far enough to pull out his penis and flop it around a bit.

“I hate you.”

“I know,” Cale said, stuffing his penis back in his trousers.

The two partners went back to staring out at the ocean ahead of them, with Stollar still adjusting his tight trunks while Cale continued to take in the wonderful sights around him.

“Forgot how relaxing this was,” Cale said.

“Being at the beach?”

“Being away from work.”

Stollar chuckled. “You gotta take more vacations. Try to enjoy yourself a bit more, like you did in Wormill Central. Maybe you wouldn’t be so damn grouchy all the time.”

“Eh…maybe. I’ve still contemplated it. Not sure I can though.”

“Bullshit you can’t! You ain’t on a time limit, Cale. We’re self-employed; we can do whatever the hell we want. We can quit right now if we honestly wanted to.”

“No, we can’t. We’ve done this for too long now; it’s engrained in our programming.”

Stollar flared his nostrils and curled his toes. “Not a huge fan of you talking about us as if we’re machines. Starting to sound like Olly now.”

Huffing, Cale shuffled his footpaws around, still feeling his bones aching after the events of the past few weeks. “He’s right, y’know. To some extent at least. When you look around this beach, what do you see, Stollar?”

“Umbrellas. Sand. Water. A hot dog vendor. Lots of sexy males and females in bikinis and swimming trunks. Lots of not-so-sexy males and females in bikinis and swimming trunks. Someone’s grandmother who should _not_ be wearing _that_ in public,” Stollar said, ending his sentence with a grimace.

Cale chuckled after seeing the same elderly anthro. “Fair enough. But to be honest, what I see around me are lines of code. Commands, prompts, different variations of keys…they’re all here, walking around this beach.”

“That’s that cynicism talkin’ again.”

“No, no, it’s not. You know how programming works. What happens if you forget to place a single comma in hundreds of lines worth of code?”

“Everything fucks up and cra…oh.”

Cale nodded. “Exactly. All those digits, all those letters…and a single miniscule entity that most find irrelevant can cause the entire program to fail. Look around you, Stollar. Does that cub trying to suck on his toes matter? Do those young teenage wolves look like they’ll do anything of importance? Does that filthy porcupine who is shamelessly scratching his groin and using the same paw to eat his hot dog look like he’s important? Of course they all are. It’s like the Baron said: he’s just a tiny speck. And there are millions of people like him out there. …He just failed to acknowledge that there are millions of people like _these_ out here too.”

After explaining his point, Cale rubbed his face before exhaling. “By this time next year, I’ll be dead.”

“Will you stop talkin’ about that?” Stollar snapped. “They’re gonna find a cure or some proper vaccine—”

“It’s too late. The pathogen’s already ruined most of my organs. The last several times I took a dump, there was blood in my stool. That’s never happened before, even when I was off my medication. Before we went to take down the Baron, my legs gave out in my bedroom, and I cracked my head against the corner of my nightstand.”

Stollar turned and glared at Cale. “You told me you got that injury chasing down Kolson.”

Cale shook his head. “Even if they found a cure tomorrow…they can’t reverse what’s happened. And my body’s too old to survive having over half my organs replaced, let alone a bone marrow transplant.”

“…So that’s why you wanted to come here.”

“No. …Well, yes, but…it’s like…I guess I wanted to remind myself of what I’ve done. When I was chasing down Georgie, I killed some innocent drug addict. Didn’t care. Still don’t, to be honest. I just saw him as an obstacle in my way. And I destroyed it. I was in those labs in Demyl Swamp, and I came across a group of scientists. None of them seemed hostile…but I killed them anyway. I almost lost you Stollar, back in Knochen City; I screwed up and tried to threaten Gobor in the middle of a busy street…and Gobor decided to kill thousands just to spite me. And when we assaulted Kolson’s warehouse…I killed most of his employees. They all had names. They were all like me, just coding trying to make a program run. But I didn’t care. Let’s not even get started on what I did when I was with the Cephalopodan Strikers.”

“You think you deserve this, what’s happening to you.”

Cale paused for a moment and looked down. He played with some of the sand in-between his legs before taking a deep breath and looking back up. When Stollar looked at his face, he could see that a couple tears were running down his cheek.

“I do deserve this, Stollar…even with…even when I was dating Keevonu…I fucked that up too. He should be here with me right now…and he’s not. Because I ruined it.”

“You can’t blame—”

“Yes, I can. Because it’s the truth. We both know that.”

Stollar looked away from Cale and felt his eyes watering too. He nodded softly to himself before he sucked on his teeth and took a shuddering breath.

“You wanna know what I admire about people like you?” Stollar asked, his voice breaking.

Cale chuckled wryly before wiping away his tears. “Admire?”

“Look again, Cale. You keep talking about coding and programming, all that shit. This ‘coding’ you see around this beach? All these tiny fragments you say are so important, despite being seemingly insignificant? They’re all still ‘functioning’ because of people like you. …Haven’t you figured that out yet? You’ll be dead in another year, maybe two. You can’t sleep right. You can’t eat right. Your bones are starting to give now, and half the damn time you have to wear a diaper out in public. Your best friend is an ex-con who raped someone, you’re fucking a mercenary whose boss is a sociopath, and your boyfriend dumped you. And yet you _still_ choose to risk your life every day to save all these ‘insignificant’ pieces of ‘coding,’ Cale!”

Stollar sniffled as he felt tears running down his face. “Why can’t you see that?” he asked, almost sobbing. “Most people going through the shit you’re going through? They would’ve killed themselves. They-they would’ve spent the last few years of their lives being an old, bitter, craggy waste of filth who does nothing but try to make everyone as miserable as they are. Or-or better yet, they would’ve said ‘fuck everything. I’m gonna spend the rest of my days doing meaningless bullshit because I’m gonna die soon anyway.’ And that’s selfish. That’s absolutely _selfish_. But you don’t do that. This is the first time in, what, six months, since you decided you needed a break from it all? Six months, Cale…six months _straight_ , and all you’ve done was try to help people, save people. I mean…sure. You ain’t some fuckin’ saint—that’s for damn sure. But I’ve seen pure fuckin’ evil, Cale. You’re nothing like Gobor Grizzer or Olly Kurrmor. You can’t…you can’t sit there and tell me you still think you’re a horrible person when _this_ is what you’re spending the last years of your life doing.”

Cale looked at Stollar again, unaware that tears were running down his face again. Both creatures looked at each other as they struggled not to break down sobbing out in public. Stollar looked away from the lion and sniffled a few times as he wiped his face off, while Cale smiled gently and exhaled.

“…Do you ever wish life was simpler?” Cale suddenly asked. “Just…you wish everything was just black or white, right or wrong, yes or no?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Heh…me neither.”

Both creatures remained seated as they continued to listen to the waves crashing and the various anthros laughing and playing all around them. Eventually, Stollar chuckled and wiped his eyes again.

“Look at us. S’posed to be relaxing and we’re sitting here discussing all this existential nonsense and crying like little bitches.”

“Heh. It happens.”

The alopid grunted as he got to his feet and wiped some sand off his trunks. “I’m gonna get a drink. Want one?”

“Sure.”

After Stollar nodded, he turned and headed over to one of the vendors that sold an assortment of beverages, leaving Cale alone to contemplate his future. He stared ahead out into the ocean again.

________________________________________

_And grunted when Keevonu jabbed him in his right shoulder before sitting down beside him. Cale looked at the shirtless snow leopard who was only wearing a pair of light blue swimming trunks and showing off his white teeth. He started thumping his tail on the ground._

_“See? Told you you’d enjoy this place.”_

_Cale kept staring forward, watching as the sun continued to set and the sky suddenly changed from being blue to a dull orange, with no clouds in sight. The lion reached down and grabbed some of the sand around him, letting the coarse material grind against his fingers._

_“It’s nice. Just…just been a while.”_

_“Since you’ve been at the beach?”_

_“Since I’ve relaxed. Even when I’m on vacation, I’m always catching up on menial tasks or chores, all that crap. I just haven’t really—”_

_“Shut off your brain and enjoyed the serenity of everything around you?”_

_“That too.”_

_The felines scooted a little closer to each other, with Keevonu slowly moving his right paw through the sand and grabbing Cale’s left one. The lion looked down at his paw and saw Keevonu grasping it, before he looked up at the snow leopard’s tender smile as he wagged his tail around the sand. Cale purred softly while Keevonu sighed and looked out at the sunset._

_“What do you want in life, Cale?”_

_“Hmm?”_

_“What is it you want with your life?”_

_“Lots of stuff. Beer that doesn’t go flat. A taco with every kind of meat inside. Quite frankly, I wouldn’t mind fuckin’ you right now.”_

_Keevonu chuckled. “This ain’t a nude beach, and we’re not alone.”_

_Cale grinned lustfully. “Like I give a damn.”_

_The snow leopard punched Cale in the arm roughly before shaking his head and exhaling. “Figured you would say that.”_

_“Okay, well, what do you want?”_

_“Easy. I want you to be happy, Cale.”_

_Cale thumped his tail in the sand. “I’m happy right now, hon. I’m always happy when I’m with you, as sappy as that shit sounds.”_

_“I mean always. Even when I’m not with you.”_

_“Why wouldn’t you be with me?”_

_“You know why.”_

_Cale looked away from Keevonu for a brief moment, although he still held his paw. “We’ve been in danger lots of times, hon. Nothing’s happened before; nothing’s going to happen now.”_

_“I-I know. It’s just…we can’t live forever, Cale. Everything is ephemeral. And I don’t want you to give up on life just because something happened to me, or to us. So many buddies I knew in my unit…they’re either dead or miserable. Hell, two of ‘em committed suicide. I’m just tired of seeing people I used to know just…give up, y’know? Life is precious, and yet most of my friends just pissed it all away because a few bad things happened to them.”_

_“I can’t walk around with a permanent grin on my face as I sashay down the sidewalk. You know that’s not who I am.”_

_“I know. But just…I want you to see life for what it truly is. All I’m asking is that no matter how bad things may end up for you, you never forget what life has to offer you. Okay?”_

_Cale looked at the snow leopard’s concerned face. He stared into his sparkling eyes and looked at his bare chest before gripping the leopard’s paw a bit tighter. Then he smiled as he leaned over and pressed his lips against Keevonu’s mouth, kissing him for a brief moment. As he took his lips away, the lion nodded and said, “Okay.” Both felines continued to gaze at each other, feeling the warm wind blowing against their bodies and carrying the scent of the ocean on it. Keevonu leaned forward and started kissing Cale himself, brushing his whiskers against Cale’s muzzle as he wrapped his arms around the lion’s burly body. Cale did the same, shutting his eyes and smacking as he kissed Keevonu, moaning softly as he felt the snow leopard’s warmth engulfing him._

______________________________________

“Got it! You said you fine with pineapple, right?” Stollar asked.

“Hmm? Oh, oh, yeah,” Cale said, breaking from his trance. “Thanks.”

Stollar sat down beside Cale again before lifting his bottle of carbonated blueberry-flavored soda and drinking a large portion of it. Cale looked at his cold bottle filled with bubbly yellowish fluids before he twisted the bottle around in his right paw and blinked.

“Hey…you okay, buddy?”

Cale stared at Stollar for a bit before he looked down at his bottle and smiled. “I’m okay, Stollar.”

Stollar smiled too, while Cale lifted his bottle of soda and consumed a sizeable portion of it before taking the bottle from his lips and exhaling.

“I’m okay.”

Stollar nodded slowly before consuming more of his beverage and belching. The two partners gazed up ahead at the ocean as they relaxed and continued to listen to the cheerful noises around them.


End file.
